


Best and Worst

by Amata42



Series: Past Tense [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Glam Rock, It's for Potions extra credit, Lots of glitter, Lupercalia, M/M, Marauders' Era, Recreational Drug Use, mostly canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 02:55:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9948665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amata42/pseuds/Amata42
Summary: Year Five for MWPP-era Hogwarts...Sirius versus Severus; Remus and Sirius make it official; more UST than you can shake a stick at; the 2nd Purple Potion Incident; and Snape's Worst Memory; and lots and lots of geeky glam rock references, yay!





	1. Prologue

~~~~~~~~~~

**Don't forget... We already know how all this ends.**

~~~~~~~~~~

Musical References found inside "Best and Worst" include:

_"The Ballad of Maxwell Demon"_ by Brian Slade  
and " _Baby's On Fire"_ by Curt Wild  
... both of whom never really existed. 

The songs are actually by Shudder to Think and by Brian Eno, respectively,   
from the Velvet Goldmine soundtrack.

Ziggy Stardust and David Bowie do exist, and should never be forgotten.

 

_Also, just in case you're curious… the song "Say Goodbye" by Dave Matthews Band inspired the interaction between Remus and Severus in mid-November._

Years from this story's time, when that song is actually written and recorded, Remus Lupin will happen to hear it some day  
... he'll be exhausted from Order business, probably looking thin and sore from the most recent full moon; he'll stop by the smaller bookstore in his hometown and grimace at the way they now serve Starbucks coffee in the café part of the store. He'll only half pay attention to the music, but something about it will pester at the back of his mind, until he finally puts down the Muggle newspaper he was pretending to read.

Then the lyrics will sink in.

And then, right as the song ends and slips away, realization will hit Remus like a deep cut: the sort that is so deep and so sudden and so precise that it doesn't even really hurt, but it should probably be taken seriously, treated with respect and care, anyway.

Remus will spend exactly four and a three-quarters of a minute remembering Severus Snape as he once was.   
... And then Remus will spend precisely five minutes and three seconds to remind himself of who Severus Snape is at that moment; the extra time is because of the added thoughts of Sirius Black, and how all of their lives have twisted inexorably around each other. 

 

Five weeks later, Sirius Black will die.

 

Remus Lupin will spend nearly three months feeling guilty and emotionally tearing himself apart for using those four and three-quarters of a minute to remember Severus, when he should have devoted every second of his time to Sirius.

It is a normal part of mourning to think such things; Remus will eventually find a way to live again. And the song will, of course, one day return to remind him of old friends.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

**And now... On with the Fic!**


	2. Certainly Sparklier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In case you hadn't already noticed... in this canon fix-it, Remus Lupin is gay.   
> Everyone honestly thought that was the case, in real life, right up 'till the moment JKR gave an interview saying, "wait, what? No, he's not gay." And the entire world looked at her like she's crazy. Because that was crazy. And he's gay. Gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide, to borrow an expression.

Remus Lupin fastidiously smoothed the creases out of the silver shirt as he folded it gently into the bottom of his trunk with a sigh. The summer was practically over, and for the first time Remus was not certain how he felt about returning to Hogwarts on September first. He was filled with the usual longing and excitement, of course, but this year there was also a pang of… discomfort. Something had happened over the summer hols that Remus couldn't exactly describe, but it was something wonderful and confusing and exhilarating; frankly, he was a little sad at the idea that he'd have to pack it away carefully, like the shirt, and leave it at home for the coming school term. The thing that had happened was a very Muggle thing; Remus wasn't sure how his wizard friends would feel about it. Remus wasn't sure they'd understand.

Remus Lupin wasn't about to risk his only friends for the sake of individuality and personal preferences, but it sure had been quite lovely - _bloody brilliant even_ \- while it had lasted.

But he snuck the shimmering metallic shirt into the bottom of his school trunk anyway… Just in case. Really. It was such a fascinating contrast to his amber eyes and golden skin, and with just the right amount of glitter on his cheeks…

It was the Glam Rock craze that had started bubbling up in London a few years ago, in 1971 when Brian Slade had produced _The Ballad of Maxwell Demon_. And there was also David Bowie, in all his glittery glory, with _Ziggy Stardust_ the year after that… Apparently it was big enough in modern English Muggle culture to have been included last year as an "interesting footnote" in Muggle Studies; Sirius Black had chosen it as his "aren't Muggles oddly fascinating?" research project. Now, the summer of 1974, the fashion and the music had trickled into the sleepy little Muggle village that Remus and his family lived near.

When those first electric notes and the wailing, haunting vocals had reached his lupine ears, Remus Lupin knew he had come into his own. It might have been the first time in his life that he could recall actually wanting something on his own. For his own. And for no other reason than merely that _he wanted it_.

Mum was confused by the glitter at first. And the platform knee-high boots and babydoll shirts that quickly followed. She wasn't terribly thrilled at the way her only son suddenly had his own ideas about how and where to spend his free time. But, on the other hand, for once he wasn't being beaten up by bigger, pushier Muggle village boys who thought her boy an awkward outsider. Plus, all the other Muggle boys seemed to be dressing up in frocks and acting queer anyway.

Then one evening, Mum had been sitting up at the kitchen table trying to decide just what to do with herself and the new young man who had emerged in her household, and Remus had come home from 'just hanging out with the lads.' And she raised her eyes to the figure in her doorway and thought, before she could stop herself, _my word - what a striking young man_. So she didn't say a word or try to stop Remus after that, since secretly she rather thought he looked quite good when he dressed up with that glitter stuff- and that's all any mother ever _really_ wants for her boy, anyway: to look his best and have some friends.

So Remus enjoyed his summer, and enjoyed the glitter, and eagerly devoured the music of Brian Slade, David Bowie, and others… and eagerly devoured a few of the Muggle lads in town too. That was the other thing that Remus wasn't entirely sure the wizarding friends at Hogwarts would understand. Remus wasn't entirely sure he understood it himself. But somewhere between the glitter and the glam, Remus had seen one or two (or ten or twenty) blokes that he fancied much more than many of the birds around, and had figured -well - why not give it a go? It had been quite a good go at that.

So on September first, it was with a small sigh that he put on a mundane looking pair of American denims and a simple solid green jumper, and left for the Hogwarts Express. But he couldn't resist sneaking his favorite bottle of glitter in at the bottom of his trunk, snuggled secretly next to the silver shirt… Just in case.

 

* * *

 

 

Something was different about Sirius Black. Remus just couldn't put his finger on it, but he looked rather like a Jarvey with something to say. His hair was longer, for one thing. Not the messy-but-short that he had worn for four years before now. This year, his hair was actually _long_. Or, at least, _longer_. It was long enough that if he caught her on a bad day, McGonagall just might make him cut it.

And then there was his body. He was taller, but not much _larger_. So the effect was rather of a well-developed, but lithe young man. The sort of body a track star would have, lean and strong for the sprint.

And then there were those eyes. Remus had seen then before, of course. They were grey. But now they were _grey_. It was utterly the most fascinating thing that Remus had ever seen. From the first moment they had met up on Platform 9¾ , and their eyes had caught each other briefly, all Remus wanted to do was stare at them. No, fall into them. Be completely absorbed by them. Maybe he had done some magic, like a glamour, to enhance their color. Maybe it was the lashes- beautiful, dark, thick, long lashes that Remus must have been blind not to have noticed before. Maybe it was the extra twinkle, like Sirius had a secret… or maybe he had just emptied a bottle of glitter right into his eyes… or maybe…

"Remus? Earth to Remus? Are you coming with us to Hogwarts this year?"

"Oy Moony - Shove on!"

Remus blinked distractedly as he realized that he was one of the last students standing on the platform. James and Sirius were leaning out of the opened windows of their usual compartment, grinning madly at him. James waved his hands dramatically.  _Oh,_  Remus thought, _Yes. That's right. School. Must get on the train._

Remus pushed himself aboard and ducked his head rather guiltily into the compartment occupied by James, Sirius, and Peter.

"Um, guys… I didn't mention it… but I sort of… have to … sit somewhere else this trip." Remus stumbled over the sentence apologetically.

"What?!" came the chorus of incredulous voices.

"But we were going to plan for _tomorrow night_!" James whined. Remus flinched and anxiously checked to make sure no one was close enough to hear, to suspect what might be special about _tomorrow night_.

"But I had something I wanted to tell you blokes." Sirius practically pouted.

"But I'm supposed to go meet with the other prefects." Remus hastily explained with a desperately distraught tone of voice.

"Prefect!" came the chorus of surprised voices.

"Why didn't you tell us sooner!" James exclaimed.

"Wow! That's bloody brilliant!" Peter said with a tremor of excitement.

"Way to go, Moony!" Sirius howled, his face splitting open in a boyish grin. "Go on then - I'll tell you guys later." He made shooing motions with his hands.

"I swear I'll be back when I can…" Remus promised as he backed away, and turned to find his way to the front of the train. _Well that went well…_ he thought gratefully, as he dug the prefect's badge out of his pocket.

 

* * *

 

"Well Sirius? What were you going to tell us?" James raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"It's more like _show_ , really. And I'm not saying a word until Moony is here." Sirius said loftily.

But his face was struggling to conceal a grin. Peter glanced back and forth between the two boys, his eyes wide but sharp. In his opinion, James wasn't as ignorant as he was letting on. James knew everything, especially when it came to Sirius. They practically lived together during the summer anyway; sharing weeks at a time at each other's houses… or a couple days at the Black summer house before a hasty retreat for a couple weeks at Godric's Hollow. Peter bit back a sudden pang of envy. It wasn't like his father would let him join them anyway. He had a job as a busboy at the Leaky Cauldron for the summer; he had to get up every morning and go earn his responsible share of the household income. He would have been lectured quite sternly, with much nodding, had he even suggested taking some time off to merely _have fun_. The summer wasn't for having fun… it was for getting ahead.

The two other boys shared a grin. James rolled his eyes, but said nothing. Sirius quietly began to hum. It wasn't a song that Peter recognized, but that didn't mean much. Not like his father allowed time or money to be wasted on something like music. Sirius, now half muttering along with his own humming said something like, "lipstick kissed elbow glove" but Peter didn't have a chance to puzzle about it because at that moment Remus stepped into their compartment and shut the door behind him. He looked pale, and honestly relieved to be safely out of everybody's sight.

"Thank Merlin _that's_ over." He sighed. "I never thought that being Prefect meant that you had to… be around so many students."

James let out a loud laugh. "No, Moony, I don't reckon you can spend your tenure as Prefect with your nose buried in a library book!"

If possible, Remus paled a little more. As if the thought of being assertive and in charge made him physically ill. Peter noticed that reaction with vague interest. Maybe he should keep that thought filed away somewhere for future use… you never knew when it would be useful to have a Prefect on your side, but unwilling to reprimand you when you broke the rules… _It is good to have Remus Lupin in your pocket,_ Peter decided silently, his mousy eyes watching the golden boy, _Plenty of power, incredible weaknesses for chocolate and social affirmation._

"So," Remus said as he flopped down next to James, "what was it- James budge up - that you were going to tell us, Sirius?"

"More like show." Sirius said noncommittally, suddenly giving the distinct impression of an awkward, nervous teenager. "Well… umm… you see. There was this bloke in town that I met one day when I slipped away from Mother. I sorta found my way to the Muggle part of London…"

"Sort of?" James smirked.

"Okay, no, not sort of. You guys know how much my family drives me nuts." Sirius rolled his eyes as everyone in the compartment nodded in agreement. "So this summer I decided I wasn't going to hang around if they bothered me too much. Mother and Father are quite _taken_ with Regulus, the perfect Slytherin. They spent the whole summer talking about how Slughorn has _taken a shine to our Regulus_ , and about how _Professor Slughorn has the proper sort of connections for a true Black heir_. They don't pay much attention to me anymore. I just started excusing myself to explore London; they don't ask where I go, and it simply wouldn't even occur to them that I would _choose_ to go hang out with Muggles."

Sirius gave a shrug and wicked grin slid attractively across his lips.

"That's how I met these blokes. Well, they _are_ blokes, but they're so _different_ than other blokes. See, there's this music that they've been listening to- Muggles, that is - and it's this whole… _craze_ , really… that's been going on all this time - and I got the idea last year, when I studied it in Muggle Studies, to go see for myself during the summer."

Remus had an odd itch forming between his shoulder blades. He leaned forward expectantly; something about what Sirius was saying…

"The music is _fabulous_ , you've never heard anything like it. And _I love it_." The last part of the story was said in the sort of voice that Sirius only used when he was afraid that he was too far out on his limb, and that nobody would follow him. It was a weird combination of assertive aggressiveness, and pleading vulnerability. Remus decided that he _loved_ that tone of voice. He had never really thought of Sirius as _needing_ anybody else, but the way he stated that he loved the music- as if he really needed other people to share his love - was fascinating. Remus _needed_ to hear Sirius _needing_ more often.

James had a wide grin plastered across his face. "Oy, get on with it, mate." He leaned back and crossed his arms. "Go on then."

"Well, my parents don't know anything about it. But it's called _glam rock_ -" Remus' stomach suddenly hitched itself into this throat, "and it's _much_ better in person because you get to dress up and _everything_."

"Dress up?" Peter squeaked, his eyes nearly popping out of his head at the boy sitting next to him.

"Yes." Sirius said, as James started chuckling. Which turned into a loud laugh, which turned into a knee-slapping roar. "I… knew…it…" He gasped as he held onto his sides with glee. Remus was speechless. He thought about the silver shirt and the glitter hidden in his own trunk, and thought maybe he wanted to cry he was so happy. Or maybe he should kiss them all. Or maybe he should just snog Sirius…

"Yes… a bloke can hide a lot beneath his robes, you know." Sirius was saying.

"Go on, _show_ us already." James wheezed. Remus watched as Sirius reached up a hand and pulled his robes back with a dramatic flair. Remus wasn't sure what he lost first: his ability to breathe, or his ability to think coherent thoughts.

 _Oh great Merlin. Sirius Black…is incredibly sexy._ Apparently, he had regained his ability to think. Now if only he could make his lungs work again…

Sirius' robes slung down off his shoulders, the rich black velvet of the collar draped across the crooks of his elbows. Sirius had probably spent a whole day secretly practicing exactly that move, finding just the right amount of drape, just the right way to shrug off the robes, just the perfect robe to wear on the train to achieve the effect… Remus couldn't help staring hungrily at the clothing, and the body, that had been concealed by the wizarding robes. Sirius was wearing a tight, cropped metallic green shirt. It looked like snake skin, the way it rippled perfectly over his chest and just barely over his well-defined stomach. His black trousers were tight-very tight- and made out of…

 _Oh great Merlin_ , Remus thought again, _is that leather?_ His lycanthropic sense of smell told him it was. And platform boots peeking out from the slight flair of the trouser legs. _Sirius has the hottest arse I've ever seen. And if I don't start breathing soon, I'm going to pass out. And if I don't stop staring soon, I'm going to get incredibly…… hard._

Dimly, Remus was aware that James was still laughing. Peter was still staring. And Sirius was now using the free space in the compartment to twirl around like a dancing queen, his expensive wizarding robes still trailing off his arms.

"You look like Curt Wild. But your hair is black." Remus was utterly shocked that his mouth had decided to move. He was, however, thrilled that speech meant that he was breathing properly again. Sirius froze and twisted around, the black of his robes spiraling down his body. Their eyes locked, and Remus realized that he'd have to relearn how to breathe if the whole school term was going to be this way. On the plus side, however, he was now staring straight at those lovely grey eyes.

"You know about Curt Wild?" Sirius asked. His voice was low…almost…eager?

" _Baby's on Fire_." Was the only response that Remus could think of at the moment.

Sirius' head fell gently to the side, as all his eagerness spilled into an overflowing, sparkling, lopsided grin. "Can you believe we missed that concert? That _guitar solo_?" He lamented, tragically. Remus nodded and groaned empathetically. Peter's eyes were nearly popping out of his head. He had next to no idea what was going on. James had finally managed to curtail his laughter, and was trying to wipe the tears from his eyes.

"Of course…" he sniffed loudly, "Moony lives in a mostly-Muggle town. I bet you were all covered in glitter this summer - eh Moony?" He elbowed Remus slightly harder than he needed to. "And for fuck's sake, Sirius. Sit down and put your robes back on. What if _Snivellus_ were to walk in here and see you like that?"

That was a sobering thought. Both glam-high boys found themselves roughly dropped back down to Earth. Sirius, still grinning like a maniac, made some noncommittal comment about hexing Severus. Remus shuddered at the thought of yet another year spent wedged awkwardly between the warring houses of Gryffindor and Slytherin.

But, thinking about the glitter stowed away in his trunk, maybe this year was going to be better than last… _A lot_ better.

Certainly sparklier.  
  


* * *

 

 

"I bet you five Galleons that he is."

"You know I don't have five Galleons to waste like that … but I would bet you a round on me at the Three Broomsticks next time we're in Hogsmeade. He's not. There's no way."

"You're on, Peter. He completely is, he just doesn't express himself the way Sirius does."

"Hey! I heard that Jamie. And I'll have you know that I'm not either. At least, not entirely."

"What, so you're bisexual, then?"

Peter's eyes widened to the point of bursting out of his head. His neck nearly snapped as he spun his face around to give Sirius an incredulous look. James grinned, in spite of himself; this was a lot harder on Peter since, because of his family, he didn't get out much. And he certainly didn't get out to the Muggle world at all.

"Yup. That's right." Sirius said without batting an eye. "It's a pity that a lot of the wizarding world is still so… so… prudish about all this." He flipped his hands ineffectually. "I mean, with purebloods so _medieval_ about anything related to sex, to begin with… You practically have to shag a witch -or wizard - from _India_ to be able to enjoy the good old wholesome down-and-dirty with all the wonders of Tantric magic. Or Kundalini. Or…" he leaned down close to Peter and whispered conspiratorially, "or use _toys_." James laughed and rolled his eyes. As if Sirius was saying anything even remotely shocking…and yet poor Peter looked like he was about to faint -or explode.

"So, Peter, with a dormmate like _that_ , is it really too shocking to think that our dear Moony might actually be gay?"

Peter just squeaked defiantly. But now Sirius was involved in the conversation.

"You think so, Jamie?" Sirius threw himself comfortably on the bed, "Budge over Peter…."

"Yes, maybe. Well, he's _at least_ bisexual." James said crossing his arms.

"What, hedging your bets now?" Sirius scoffed.

"So maybe I am." James said with a lift of his chin. "I say Moony makes his own rules about who and when and how. You know what his life is like. I seriously doubt he would adhere to compulsory heterosexuality when he's the sort to take whatever affection this world has to offer."

"Okay, fine." Sirius challenged with an arched eyebrow. "Prove it."

"Well, first of all," James counted off on his fingers, "He knew all about those Muggle songs that you knew about when you were talking on the train."

"Yes, but he also _lives_ in Muggle town. Maybe he just knew because it's popular."

"Okay, but still-" James continued, "he's overly neat and fussy about being proper."

"That would just make him a prat, not a queer."

"Maybe, but you know that he's _not_ a prat…he has an overdeveloped sense of personal hygiene, and he _also_ enjoys tea a little too much."

"So he's been coddled by his mummy."

"But… but… just think about it. You know how he is! He's utterly obsessed with chocolate, at least agree that _that's_ not natural. And there's the way that he's never had a date, or even expressed interest in any of the birds here at school. But at the same time, he's _loads_ better about understanding what girls are thinking - he talks about _feelings_ and he's all _sensitive_ and stuff. He has to be a bundle of repressed desire. I bet… I bet… I bet he's got a bottle of glitter hidden in the bottom of his trunk!" James ended in a huff.

"Well, if _that's_ your idea of irrefutable evidence. I think I'm going to take your bet with Peter." Sirius scoffed playfully. "You can buy us all a round, twice over, when we figure out how to prove you wrong."

Suddenly Gryffindor Tower was filled with a somber silence as the three boys wondered how in the world they would go about solving the grand debate. Their silence was broken by a soft cough at the doorway. Their faces frozen in horror, they turned as one to see Remus Lupin leaning casually against the doorframe.

"What exactly are you betting on?" He asked, his tone just a little too innocent. Peter was pale, his eyes wide again. James felt the back of his neck heating in an embarrassed flush, and Sirius looked as red as a tomato.

"Well… ahh… actually…"

Remus sighed dramatically, but his face was already sliding into a shy crooked grin. "I could hear you the whole way down the stairs, guys. Werewolf-enhanced hearing, remember…" He said softly, even a little nervously.

Sirius choked a bit. "errr. How much did you…umm… hear, Moony?"

"Enough to know that you're betting on me. And enough to know who's going to loose that bet." He answered in a surprisingly smug tone of voice.

"For Merlin's sake, Moony," James finally burst, "put us out of our misery already. So…?"

Remus raised an eyebrow and surveyed his friends critically. His gaze lingered on Peter for half a second, but the boy didn't seem in too much danger of implosion. Or explosion, Remus couldn't decide which was more likely. Giving a half resigned, half good-natured shrug, he walked casually to his bed. There, without saying a word, he bent down and rummaged in his trunk for half a minute. James and Sirius craned their necks, curiosity absolutely seeping out of their pores. Peter just swallowed hard, and thought about how expensive a round at the Three Broomsticks might actually turn out to be…And then, his back still to them, Remus straightened up - something hidden in front of him.

He turned and held out his hands…

A half-empty bottle of silver glitter shaped like absolutely miniscule crescent moons.


	3. Maximum Volume

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loud music and shenanigans in Gryffindor Tower

"Where's James? Or Peter?" Sirius asked, trying in vain to conceal his up-to-no-good grin.

"Peter's got Potions study group, again… James is off trying to get Evans to notice him, again…" Remus didn't even look up from his book. "And I'm studying…. Again."

"Well stop it right now!" Sirius demanded. "I need your help."

Remus quirked an eye at the black-haired boy over the top of his book. It had taken him half an hour already just to find a comfortable-but-not-too-comfy spot on his bed, and another half hour to squelch his curiosity about what was going on down in the Common Room.

"I don't know if anybody mentioned it to you or not, Sirius, but we have these things called _OWLs_ at the end of this year… They're somewhat hard, and they sort of determine _the rest of your life._ " Remus tried to muster an aloof glare, "And some of us would like to be well-prepared for them in advance. You know, _prior_ to the night before."

Sirius rolled his eyes dramatically. And then he strolled toward Remus' bed. _Stalked_ is more like it. Absolutely _prowled_ \- like sex on legs. Remus' eyes popped wide open, his book clutched in his hands but all-but-forgotten. Sirius rolled his shoulders back, barely hinting at arching his back, and then curled forward to place his hands on the edge of the bed. His grey eyes found and held Remus' gaze, as he walked himself slowly closer and closer.

"But…" he crawled his knees up on the mattress.

"I…" his hands advanced again.

"Want…" Remus felt his eyes flutter closed briefly, enthralled at the idea of what Sirius could possibly _want_ …

"You…" the velvety voice whispered, as Remus felt Sirius' weight picking along the bed, closer and closer.

"To come…" Sirius' eyes widened as Remus unexpectedly moaned. For half a second, his hands now placed on either side of Remus' hips, Sirius contemplated forgetting about his latest, greatest idea in lieu of finding out exactly what would make Remus give repeat performances of his strangled moan. But Remus was one of his best _friends_ , and knowing his luck, Sirius would completely screw it up by tempting fate like that…Swallowing hard, Sirius forced himself to remain focused.

"See what I just got delivered." Sirius ended in a rush. Remus' flushed, amber eyes blinked open quizzically.  _Well, I guess that's one way to tear his attention away from a book,_ Sirius thought as he felt his cheeks flush slightly. Good gods, he was still practically straddling Remus! Sirius jumped back, and to the floor, in what he hoped looked decently like an enthusiastic 'lets go have fun!' bound toward the door.

Even though he was somewhat confused, Remus was glad that Sirius hadn't said anything else; at that point in time, Remus would have done anything - anything at all - that Sirius had asked him to. Including giving Filch a sponge bath. Well… maybe not _that_. Still slightly trembling from the feel of Sirius' weight pressing down the bed around him, Remus followed Sirius blithely to the Common Room. There was a box sitting on the low table by the fireplace that they liked to use for wizard's chess. Next to it was a slightly smaller crate… full of albums. With album art that Remus was beginning to recognize.

"Ohh!" he exclaimed, trying hard not to squeal or prance, "Are these yours, Sirius?"

Sirius beamed a little more than usual. "Yeah. I'd been secretly buying them all summer - saving up for when I got back here and could actually _play_ them. Mother and Father, _Muggle_ stuff - you know… Anyway. I got this bloke in London to sell me this thing" he waved a hand at the larger box, "He said that's what I needed to make the records play music. And I used the Owlery in Diagon Alley to send them all off to Andromeda during the summer. Told her to keep them for me until the school year began, and then ship 'em all back to me here at Hogwarts."

He paused for dramatic effect. "Rather brilliant of me, if I say so myself."

Remus, hardly listening, was already rooting through the crate of records. He was giddy with all the glittery glee that a young gay werewolf in England could possibly contain. They were even sorted in chronological order by release date!

"Do you like them?" Sirius asked, suddenly sounding a bit nervous, "I don't really even know what I've got in there… I never had a lot of time to really shop for them, and I couldn't do much to actually find the albums with the songs I heard other people playing because… well… Mother and Father… you know." He shrugged a bit, but Remus could tell that life at the Black house had definitely reached a plateau. While it wasn't life-threatening anymore… it certainly wasn't getting any better.

"I _love_ them!" Remus replied excitedly. He was flipping past the most recent David Bowie (god himself) and looking for the classic, accept-no-substitutes original album… There was a flash of deep red, nearly the last album in the crate. Yes… there it was… in all its unbearably sexy glory: Brian Slade stretched languidly across the cover of _The Ballad of Maxwell Demon_.

"Yesssss." Remus exhaled in enthralled delight. He wrapped his fingers around the album and looked up expectantly at Sirius. … Who was looking down at him rather awkwardly. Simultaneously, both shifted their eyes across to the larger box sitting innocently on the table. It had been opened, but the Muggle thing inside of it hadn't been touched yet. Remus bit his lip and blinked at it for a moment.

"Sirius…I…um… don't actually _know_ how to …make a … turntable work…" He admitted. "… my parents had one… but I really didn't listen to music… you know… at my home. My Mum was kind of … _queer_ about me… acting… umm.. _queerly._ And, also, I sort of stopped paying much attention to Muggle technology once I started coming to Hogwarts."

Sirius was carefully unpacking the thing, the turntable, and looking at it with rapt fascination.

"I think we're missing… well… _a lot_." Remus offered. "We need… um… something that this part connects to - to make the…umm.. sound into…um _sound_."

Sirius gave a snort worthy of his bloodline: "Of all the silly _Muggle-ish_ things to say Moony! _Make the sound into sound_ … what the bloody hell is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Look." Remus put on his most snobbish voice and reminded Sirius that he was, after all, the uncontested brain of the group. "You place the record here…" he pointed to the flat circular part. "And this arm piece swings out, and…" he demonstrated, "the arm runs along the record and gets the sound out…but you still need something to… make the sound loud enough to hear, alright? Once it's out of the record…. Or something bloody well close to that, anyway."

"Besides," he added with a sudden groan, "you have to plug this thing in."

"Plug it in?" Sirius asked, utterly confused.

"Yes. It's a Muggle obsession: everything has to plug in. Everything we have at home plugs in. There's places on the walls to do it." Remus shrugged with the flippant sort of attitude that only a sixteen year old could muster when faced with something he never actually questioned before.

"Moony…" Sirius said after a thoughtful pause. "I think we're in over our heads."

The both stared blankly at the innocent looking Muggle machine on the table. Remus gripped the album longingly.

"Evans." He suddenly said.

"Huh?" Sirius asked, still staring petulantly at his brilliantly bollocksed brilliant plan.

"James is off trying to impress Evans." Remus said, a renewed excitement in his voice, "Evans is Muggle-born! She'll know all about this stuff!"

Sirius' face split apart with a grin like a ray of sun through storm clouds. "Moony- you are absolutely _brilliant_! Come on!" Sirius jumped spryly over the well-worn sofa in the Common Room heading jubilantly for the portrait-door. Moony was right on his heels, still clutching the album. But as Sirius reached the doorway, the portrait suddenly swung outward, as someone else came walking into the room. It was actually a whole gaggle of someones, most of the fifth-year girls, giggling happily with each other. They were so busy giggling that they didn't notice Sirius until too late. And Sirius, even though he certainly noticed the girls, had thrown a little too much enthusiasm into his headlong rush to be able to stop in time.

"Hey there! Watch it!" one of the girls squeaked, rather like Peter.

" _Impedimenta_!" a cool female voice called out quickly. Sirius, two seconds from crashing bodily into the group of girls, abruptly fell flat onto the floor.

"Ooooww." He groaned, rubbing his knees which, although magically locked, still hurt from where they had hit heavily on the floor. He peered up into a face that seemed torn between a reproachful glare and an amused grin. She had thick, dark red hair and green almond-shaped eyes. The one and only, Lily Evans. From his vantage point on the floor, Sirius saw James slip in through the portrait-door. Sirius winced as he imagined putting up with James' grumbling later that evening about how James was never going to have a chance with Lily Evans if his own mates kept bollocksing everything up with their crazy schemes and clumsiness and…on and on…

"Oi, Evans!" Sirius tried to appear charming, from the floor. Remus was already hovering eagerly close by. "Just the witch we were looking for!"

Lily Evans eyed them suspiciously, over her shoulder as she and her friends had already begun to move away from the near-collision. "What for?" she finally asked, curiosity winning over disdain. James looked bewildered and curious, and utterly like a teenage boy trying to look like neither.

"Well… we need your help." Remus said softly, but with an almost childish begging in his voice. "We need to find a plug…. Among other things." He amended quickly.

"Say again?" Evans asked, her eyebrows raising quizzically. She pointedly ignored James, who ran his hands through his hair.

"We've got a Muggle thing - a turntable - and we wanted to listen to, you know, music. But we've got no place to plug it in." Sirius offered from the floor, waiting impatiently for the _Impedimenta_ to wear off.

Comprehension dawned across Evans' face. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Idiots." She laughed, "You don't just need a plug, you need _electricity_. Hogwarts doesn't have any!"

Sirius, his feet beginning to tingle, wiggled dejectedly on the floor. _So much for impressing Moony,_ he thought sadly, and feeling a little like a fool. Remus, however, remained undaunted. "Come on, Evans. You're Muggle-born. I practically live like a Muggle. _And_ , we're both the _smartest_ around. Between you and me, I'm sure we can do _something_ …"

Remus gave her such wide-wolf-eyes that James almost jumped over the sofa to murder him right then and there. But James caught himself just in time and firmly reminded himself that murderers went to Azkaban. And Azkaban would not impress Evans.

"Oh, alright!" Lily Evans relented. She followed Remus to the forlorn-looking turntable. Sirius dragged himself upright next to them, grinning wildly. James appeared nonchalantly at Sirius' side, as if he had been part of this whole scheme all along, and not just a recent addition. He ran a hand through his hair, just for good measure.

"Well… do you think maybe a locomotor charm to get the arm to move properly?" Remus began tentatively, trying to remember exactly how the Muggle boys in the village had made everything work.

"No…I don't think that's so much a problem- the needle fits into the record groove, and that's it… but we do need to make the record spin, once we set the needle into the groove to begin with." Evans frowned intently at the Muggle electronic.

"Could we just…I dunno… use _Ennervate_ to turn it on?" Sirius asked.

"Hmm. That's kind of clever, Sirius, but you _obviously_ don't pay attention in Muggle Studies. Otherwise you'd know that electricity doesn't work that way."

"Yeah, Sirius. _Obviously_." James said slightly louder than his normal voice, and somewhat more arrogantly too.

Evans just ignored him, and continued musing, "No…I don't think we want to actually try to replace the source of energy, otherwise we'd either have to find a spell that replicates the constant flow of electricity…or we'd have to continually recast a single energizing spell." She chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully for a second, then nodded abruptly. Pulling out her wand, she said, _Circumduco_!, while moving her wand in a flat circle mimicking the movement of a playing record. Obediently, the table part of the turntable began to rotate, as if it had been plugged in and turned on. Remus grinned approvingly.

"Of course! Brilliantly done, Evans." he said enthusiastically. "I'll have to remember that charm. Here…" he pulled the record out of the album sleeve and placed it on the spinning surface. Carefully putting the needle into place, he said " _Sonorus_!" with a precise flick of his wand toward the needle.

James was beside himself with glee, a foolish grin plastered over his face. "Bloody brilliant." He said approvingly. The tone of his voice seemed to imply, _it's about time the lot of you caught on to the obvious solution I had deduced hours ago_. Lily Evans, again, continued to ignore him.

"Oh wait!" Sirius scrambled over to the turntable as the initial popping of the record smoothed out into the opening beats of the title song. He looked solemnly across at Remus. Their eyes locked for a second, gold fusing with grey, and they shared a secret, knowing grin.

"Although the song you are about to hear is a work of fiction…" Remus began in the sort of voice reserved for mystery thrillers or campy B-grade movies.

"…it should nevertheless be played at…" Sirius continued,

"Maximum Volume!" they both agreed in one voice, followed swiftly by Sirius' unabashed, _Sonorus Maximus_!

"Ohhh! I _love_ this album!" Evans exclaimed, as she realized for the first time what exactly they were listening to. "Yes, yes - turn it up!" She grinned as she quite forgot that the music was being magically controlled, and was already at maximum volume. " _Itero Infinitus_!" She pronounced.

"Evans, that's a brilliant charm!" Remus laughed. "You've got quite a knack for charms, you know?"

Evans accepted the compliment by jumping up on the over-used sofa and performed a slow-motion walking dance reminiscent of the vocalist's first performance of the song. James, who had never actually heard, let alone seen a performance of the song, was rather lost; but with a determined hand through his hair, he grinned openly up at Evans and began to hop along with the catchy beat. Sirius wrapped an arm around Remus' waist, and pulled the other boy into a madly twisting spiral of wiggles and gyrations that roamed around, and over top of, the furniture in the Common Room. His studying long since forgotten, Remus allowed his body to be led by the overwhelming presence of Sirius Black; his eyes half shut, and his head rolling back as he laughed light-heartedly.

He could feel the warm press of Sirius' fingers gripping just above his hip; Sirius' breath teasing just across the skin of his cheek, as they grinned and twisted and tripped over themselves. The world was going through an odd transformation: the only things that were solid anymore were Sirius' eyes, and his body touching sporadically against Remus' own body, and the strains of the music, weaving through the air as if they were golden silk threads, tangling up laughter and breath and soft skin and shining eyes and…  
And nothing else was real; the rest of the world, of desks and chairs and homework, and dorm-rooms and Houses, and full moons and werewolves and people themselves, all dissipated like mist in a dream. And through that mist, he, Remus Lupin, was waltzing arm in arm with Sirius Black.

Having lost all track of time and space, Sirius wasn't entirely sure if it was the fifth or sixth time the song repeated itself, when suddenly another body solidified in the space otherwise occupied by himself, by Remus-in-his-arms, by Lily Evans (doing a wonderful repeat performance of her lip synch debut), and by James Potter (who had finally given up trying to look cool for Evans, and was now flailing about wildly like an idiot). The new body belonged to Professor McGonagall, the Gryffindor Head of House.

"Sirius Black! James Potter! I should have _known_ you two would be involved in this … this _caterwauling_!" Professor McGonagall yelled. Sirius couldn't tell if she was yelling because she was actually angry, or if she merely wanted to be heard over the music.

"And Evans and Lupin too!" she exclaimed, having now had enough time to take in all the occupants of her Common Room. "Honestly! I expect such things from _them_ , but to find two of Gryffindor's best students… _cajoling and cavorting_ …" For the first time at an utter loss for the proper words, McGonagall simply pressed her lips thinly together, threw her hands severely up into the air with a you-are-all-officially-beyond-all-hope gesture. Finally she demanded in a tone of affected dignity, "If you will _insist_ on this _ungodly_ volume, you could at very least play a _variety_ of songs!"

The properly chastised Gryffindors fell into boneless heaps of laughter then, thoroughly amused by the whole affair. Lily Evans finally caught her breath long enough to remove the repeating charm, and Sirius consented to lowering the volume. Evans thanked Remus for an enjoyable romp, and winked cheekily at Sirius before leaving for the girls' dorm to rejoin her friends. The last thing she did before disappearing up the stairs was pointedly ignore James.

James, running a hand through his hair, and grinning euphorically that Evans had finally _ignored_ him, decided it was high time to be heading to his own bed; he wandered distractedly off to the boys' dorm enchanted by the vision of Lily Evans, dancing on a sofa.

Remus and Sirius, collapsed next to each other on the floor, leaned back against the ratty Gryffindor sofa. Remus playfully hooked his foot around Sirius' ankle. Sirius grinned openly, and then secretly arranged himself so that whenever one or the other inhaled, their shoulders would brush, and their arms would bump, and their knees would knock.

Then they spent the rest of the evening, and well into the night, going through the albums in the crate that Sirius had collected over the summer.

But, mindful of McGonagall, they kept the volume more godly…or, at very least, somewhat _angelic_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm probably very biased... but in my head, Remus and Sirius look pretty much exactly like the main characters from the movie Velvet Goldmine. 
> 
> What do you think??


	4. Absolutely Besotted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally getting old enough to get along with things - but there's no rush to join the world outside of Hogwarts...

Sirius Black pretended to search the shelves for a book. A particularly hard book to find, because it was taking him rather long. So long, in fact, that he had been standing at the same shelf for nearly ten minutes. Remus finally looked up from his parchment to offer help, but quickly realized that Sirius was not searching for a book at all. He was thinking. Apparently, he was thinking very hard about something. His eyes lost, unfocused, and his right hand raised frozen in the act of pulling out a book.

"Sirius?" James coughed from beside Remus. He had been watching his best friend for the past five minutes with curiosity. With an odd shudder that seemed to ripple through his muscles, Sirius returned to the present from wherever his thoughts had been. For one vague moment, Remus had thought that the shudder looked remarkably similar to the melting wave that they had seen go through McGonagall's body just before she transformed into a McGonagall-cat. Remus shook that absurd thought - really, Sirius Black as a cat! - from his head as he bent back down over his homework. They all had two scrolls due at the end of the week for Transfiguration. And Peter was in a special study group for Potions, again.

"Jamie…umm… can I talk to you for a minute?" Sirius said suddenly, as he walked back to their official table, book entirely forgotten.

"Ho? Um… sure." James shoved his parchment away with an exhausted look, and dropped his quill. Remus lifted his head again, raising a quizzical eyebrow, but made no move to invite himself along. If the Terrible Two wanted to chat in private, that wasn't really anything new. He watched them walk away, out of earshot, but not out of the library: must be something important enough to be secret, and secret enough to not include him. For one brief moment, Remus bit his lip and forced himself not to feel rejected and hurt. After all, they weren't including Peter either; but that wasn't a very consoling thought.

As Remus bent his head back toward his essay, he saw a subtle movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning his face slightly, so that he could see, Remus glanced to his right. Severus Snape was settling down, with a generous pile of books, at a study nook across the room. It was far enough away to be obviously away from them, but still in direct view of both their own study nook and the spare table where Sirius and James had settled down for their private chat.

Severus didn't even glance his way. Remus, once again bit his lip and swallowed a bitter feeling. Whatever Sirius had said to him during last spring…it had done its trick. Severus had been distant, cold, for the rest of the term. And he had not spoken directly to Remus since then. It felt absolutely wretched, having lost a decent friend like that; they had never really been chums like Remus was with James and Sirius and Peter, but it _had_ been something.

After all, Severus was the first person at Hogwarts that Remus had ever met.

 _And_ , Remus thought sadly, _it's not like he's got anyone else. I've got James and Sirius and Peter… but, minus me, I don't really recall Severus actually spending time with anyone else. Not even other Slytherins really like him. Those slimy gits, probably don't consider him a worthwhile "resource" or a useful alliance or somesuch hogwash._ With an indignant huff, to cover up his confusing remorse at the loss contact with Severus, Remus buried himself diligently in his Transfiguration essay.

* * *

 

  
"I think I'm ready." Sirius whispered as they walked away from Remus. "What about you?"

James nodded. "That extra bit of work we did over the summer really helped. I've got the transformation pretty much down alright. But what about Peter?"

Sirius nodded, "We'll have to ask him later. He's needed a lot of help - but he's not very big, anyway. I don't know what possessed him to choose a mouse."

"Rat." James corrected automatically. "Probably the same thing that we were thinking when we chose ours… Remember, it's like the wands - they sort of choose us. We only do part of the picking."

Sirius nodded. They sat down at a table out of earshot from anyone around. Not that there were many people actually in the library, but it was a precaution performed out of habit. Too many pranks had been pulled from plans hatched right in that very room for them to feel comfortable sitting anywhere too close to anyone else.

"Something's bothering you." James said. It wasn't a question.

"What if…" Sirius paused thoughtfully for a long while, shooting a glance back at Remus, "… what if he doesn't like it." Sirius finally finished.

"Oh?" James raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah." Sirius said, his voice low, "We started this whole thing for him, you know. What if… what if it doesn't make him happy? Just because we thought it would, doesn't mean it really will…And what if something goes wrong? If one of us gets hurt… if he hurts one of us - that would just kill him."

If possible, James' eyebrow rose even higher.

"First of all, mate, it was your idea. _You_ are the one who thought the whole scheme up to begin with. And _you_ are the one that thought it would make him happy. Second of all, this is the first time I've ever heard you actually _concerned_ with whether or not a prank- I mean, a plan- would work out alright. Nothing could possibly go wrong! We've put together a hundred pranks much trickier than this, right? You said yourself that you're ready: well there you go. You can either do the transformation or not. What else is there?"

"I'm not backing out or anything, Jamie." Sirius snorted resentfully. "I was only saying that… I don't want to put up with Moony if he gets pissed off and annoying about it once we show him." Sirius tried to finish his explanation with a haughty lilt, but failed miserably and only sounded pathetically desperate, besides obviously making up excuses.

"Merlin," James said, agape, "You're really crazy for him this term, aren't you?"

Sirius blinked at his best friend as if he had no idea what James was talking about. But a dark flush spread guiltily across his cheekbones.

"You are! You are! You're absolutely _besotted_ for him." James smirked. "I _knew_ it." He gloated silently across the table. Sirius didn't answer, but shoved his hands moodily into the pockets of his robes - which took some talent, since he was also slouched down in his seat.

"What do you mean, _you knew it_?" He finally asked.

James shrugged. "I just figured. You seemed to… connect… on the Hogwarts Express." He began to count off on his fingers: "Plus there's that way you're always glancing at him during classes these days. Or the way you two behaved around each other last year…And the year before that, come to think of it… And, you know, we wouldn't have ever taken over our table here in the library if it hadn't been for the fact that you were spending so much time here just to spend time with _him_ … Oh, and then there is also the way you never shower at the same time anymore - are you afraid that you won't be able to restrain yourself if you're both naked and wet and within arm's reach?" James finished teasingly.

"Oh shut your trap." Sirius growled. "What about you and bloody Evans." Sirius smirked unforgivingly as James paled a bit, and fumbled around with the nearest book on the table.

"I don't quite catch your meaning." James mumbled. "No idea what you're talking about."

"Right." It was Sirius' turn to snort. "You're an utter fool around her these days, and you know it. Too bad she thinks you're an arrogant toerag."

"At least I'm not a queer shirt-lifter."

"Stuttering git."

"Big-headed nancy."

"Pompous prat."

"Poofter with a thing for a _werewolf_."

They both froze as the words left James' mouth. Guiltily they ducked down, eyes moving back and forth quickly to make sure nobody had heard the last remark. Sirius' grey eyes flicked over a familiar dark figure hunched behind a towering stack of books a few tables away. _Snivellus_. The summer had definitely not been kind to the boy: before he had been greasy and pathetic, what with his obviously ill-kept clothes and trashy background… But since the end of last term, he had shot up a couple inches, but remained just as thin. The combination made him an awkward looking, angular boy with even stringier hair than ever before, and pallid skin. When he walked, he rather hunched into himself, stumbling around the school with a jerky gait - like a spider in the throes of a greasy death. Sirius wouldn't allow himself even a brief moment of guilt; he refused to believe that prying Snivellus away from Moony had in any way contributed to the boy's disheveled and utterly rejected lot in life.

"If he so much as comes within a _foot_ of Moo- of me- this year, I swear, I'll hex him into last week." Sirius growled, his eyes flashing. James glanced quickly back over his shoulder.

" _oh, Snivellus._ That prude." James agreed. "Got nothing better to do with his time than to study… look at all those books. Probably getting grease smudges all over them all."

"I bet half of them are Dark Arts." Sirius said viciously. "I'm just glad he isn't too chummy with the other Slytherins. The last thing anybody needs is for the Slytherins to actually _learn_ Dark Arts… and I bet _Snivellus_ is the only one among them that's got half a brain."

"Touché." James grinned. "What about … you know…"

"What? My brother?" Sirius said with a snort, "Regulus wouldn't know a Dark Lord from a Ministry Official. He just follows whoever is making up the rules; he just pleases the biggest bully to keep himself from being on the receiving end, if you know what I mean."

James nodded vigorously, but he had noticed the shadow cross Sirius' face. "…something wrong?…" he asked quietly.

"Just something 'Meda said to me, once. She and Ted left, you know, to go study in America for a bit. Before she left she told me… well, she made it sound like she and Ted might not be coming back to England. At least, not for a long time. She said it like she was going to wait until after something happened before returning. Said that they were getting out before it got really bloody, and they'd try to come back later... Then she gave me this _look_. The kind of look Moony's mum gives him anytime he's in a crowd. Like he's not safe, or he's surrounded by dangers that she'd really like to protect him from, but can't. You know… _worried but hopeless_." Sirius' voice was low and tired. He couldn't help but remember the last serious conversation he had in the library. That one night, with Remus. Unconsciously, he ran his right hand over his left forearm. "Just now, talking about Regulus…it reminded me about what 'Meda said. Reminded me about how things are at my house these days…"

James waited silently, just taking in the surprising gravity he was unaccustomed to seeing in his friend's face.

"… the more I see… the more I think there's something going on. Something coming… the more I think…Andromeda is right."

* * *

  
"We could send Wormtail in, for the first time. He's small enough that if anything happened, he could find a way to get out…or hide." James suggested pragmatically. But Peter shook violently, and squeaked in protest. Sirius only half glanced at him, wondering if he was becoming more and more canine the same way that Peter seemed to be more and more mouse-like. James didn't really strike him as more stag-like…but then again, James had _always_ been rather like a stag. The connection was most obvious when they played Quidditch; something about the way he flew, but still had the power and agility to handle the Quaffle. Or something like that…

"No. It should be me." Sirius said again, flatly.

"I just… I just don't like it, _Padfoot_." James repeated. It was surprisingly thrilling…exhilarating… to use their new nicknames. There was a warm bubble of excitement that throbbed in Sirius' chest whenever he heard the word _Padfoot_.

 _Merlin, if I cock my head and let my tongue loll out the next time Prongs says my name…I swear, next I'll be burying bones._ Sirius rolled his eyes inwardly, but kept his face a mask of seriousness.

"It should be me. First of all, we've all done our homework- " Peter squeaked morosely, "Or we _should have_ been reading up. We know that werewolves will only attack animals while transformed if they are _starving_. Otherwise, they just want to bite humans, and that's about it. So there's no danger of getting bitten: Moony isn't starving. And we all know full well that he can't help but eat extra cuts of meat the week before, like he was storing up or something. We've all watched him do it for the past five years."

"But the truth remains," Sirius continued, "we can't tell Moony about our plan ahead of time. We've already agreed that if he knew, he'd flip out and forbid us to take this risk." James and Peter nodded. "So that means that, this first time around, we won't have any way to communicate with him. At least, not in a human way. The only way will be as animals, after we've both transformed."

"But, how are we supposed to do that?" Peter asked hopelessly.

" _We_ aren't." Sirius replied evenly, " _I_ am. That's why, this first time, it should be me. Prongs might be able to communicate with him as an animal, if Moony knew ahead of time about it, but we can't count on that. I'm a canine. I've been reading about how dogs talk to each other. When I'm Padfoot, I _feel_ how to talk to other dogs. I know I can do it."

James gave Sirius a frank look of admiration, "Wow… you've really been thinking about this, haven't you?"

"Since third year." _Since that night in the library._

"Fine. I'm convinced. You go first then, by yourself. See what happens; we'll take it from there. Use my cloak to get into the room before Pomfrey and Moony, okay? And if anything- _anything_ \- goes wrong, use the cloak to hide somewhere in the shack where Moony can't hurt you." The logic in James' statement was flawed, but the underlying concern was duly noted.

"The next full moon is on Halloween." Peter said, and from the tone of his voice it was apparent that he was rather glad that he would safe and warm at the Halloween Feast rather than given the job as the first to try their new scheme.

"Good. That way everyone will be too busy feasting to notice if you aren't there, _Padfoot_." Sirius felt another warm thrill as James finished his statement.

 _Great. Next thing you know, I'll be getting fleas._ Sirius thought, but his face was already falling apart in the biggest grin known to mankind.


	5. Padfoot? Charming...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A full moon rises, and a new day dawns...

He made sure he was tucked away under James' invisibility cloak and tried to ignore the sudden fear-tainted adrenaline rush that was making him rather nauseous. There was still a good fifteen minutes before the moon rose, and Pomfrey was with Moony, bustling about and fussing like a hen. Sirius wished she would treat him half as nicely when he had to go to the Hospital Wing after some Slytherin had got in his way in the halls, and they had ended up hexing each other. Maybe he should just stay human, and let Moony bite him too - that way Pomfrey would be a little more sympathetic…

Shaking himself, Sirius remembered that he couldn't afford to be distracted at time like this. He had to make sure Pomfrey didn't accidentally walk into him or anything. For the most part, there wasn't much chance of that, because luckily, Moony was standing between her and where Sirius was sitting on the floor. He had his back to Sirius, but had glanced, wide-eyed, in Sirius' direction when he had entered the room a couple minutes ago. Pomfrey took his cloak, folding it neatly and putting it away on a high shelf, next to what appeared to be an extra set of clothing.

"Okay, Remus." She said gently, "I'm going to leave now, and lock you in as I go. I've left something special for you downstairs, because you have to miss the Halloween Feast…" and she paused to give him a motherly look, and clucked her tongue sympathetically.

"I know." Remus sighed, "A whole ham. I can smell it." From his tone of voice, Sirius was sure that what he _really_ wanted was a whole chocolate bar. But even Padfoot knew better than to try and eat too much chocolate on a canine stomach.

"Well." Pomfrey said with a wan smile, "Make sure to put your clothes up high enough that you won't get at them. Don't want to end up ruining a perfectly good shirt on accident, like that other time. I'll be back around eight tomorrow morning, to help you back to the school." And with one last pitying backwards glance, Pomfrey left the upstairs room. Sirius waited silently as he heard her footsteps trail down the stairs, across the lower rooms of the shack. There was the muted sound of a spell being cast, and a tickling feeling -as if Sirius could feel the air around him momentarily press inward and grow very still. Then the feeling passed, and Sirius began to count very slowly to twenty before he would let himself make any noise. Just in case.

Remus hadn't moved yet either; he stood very still, with his back to Sirius. And then his voice echoed softly around the room.

"I can smell you too, you know."

 _Oh_. Sirius hadn't thought of that. _Bugger_. There was a soft rustling as Sirius stood up, and let the Invisibility Cloak fall off his shoulders, and down into his hands. Remus still hadn't moved. His back to Sirius, he only slightly turned his head. Sirius now realized that Remus was very pale, and shaking.

"What are you doing here, Sirius?" his voice was low, pleading and drenched in…fear.

 _Oh_. Sirius wasn't sure what to do next. _Bugger_. So he did the first thing that came to his mind. He transformed. The image of Moony before him shifted and flattened, as his eyes themselves altered. Suddenly the sharp colors of the world bled away, leaving only shades of grey. And Padfoot did the thing that he'd been wanting to do for over a week: he cocked his head endearingly to the side, and let his tongue loll adorably.

 _Good gods, it feels good to be me._ Padfoot thought, wagging his tail without thinking about it. Apparently Moony had caught the subtle change in scent because he suddenly spun around, his amber eyes wide. Okay, maybe not-so-subtle. Padfoot had a certain doggy smell that Sirius just didn't have, not to mention a lot more hair and… doggy breath.

"Sirius…?" Remus asked incredulous. He ached all over, and the internal timer he kept was steadily ticking down the minutes. They didn't have a lot of time if they were going to figure out how to get Sirius out of the shack, and the spells re-cast before... _before_...

The giant black dog wagging his tail gave Remus the biggest, most incredible puppy-eyes that he had ever seen. His head was cocked to the side in a hopelessly charming way, and his bubblegum pink tongue lolled contentedly as his breath chuffed in an easy pant. Remus' eyes widened even more as the big fluffy puppy stamped the floor excitedly, and then dropped his chest and head downward -his butt still wagging happily in the air: the universal doggy way of saying, "I'm thrilled, really. Now let's play already! Ohgod _please_ playwithme!"

Something in his chest leapt ecstatically at the idea, responding naturally to the invitation. The wolf. Remus fought it down; _no, no, no- this is a BAD IDEA._

"Bad dog!" He felt his mouth moving. _Bloody brilliant, Remus Lupin. What an incredibly inspired thing to say at a time like this._

If possible, the black dog in front of him increased his cuteness by tenfold, as his tail dropped in a pathetic manner, and his grey eyes widened under the chastisement. He looked adoringly at Remus and whined pitifully. Remus sighed deeply, his voice becoming desperately urgent, "I don't have much time left; I need to speak to _Sirius_. Now." He said firmly, shutting his eyes so that the wolf inside of him would stop sympathizing with the canine before him.

"Moony." The voice was low, and slightly thick with emotion. Remus cracked open his eyes, willing them to grow hard and cold with fury.

"Sirius. What. The. Bloody. Hell. Do you think you're doing?!" He yelled. It was the night of the full moon, there was no way that Remus would be able to keep himself from being overly aggressive. "Are you _trying_ to get yourself killed?!"

"No!" Sirius shot back, "You see? This is exactly why we didn't tell you! I knew you'd flip out."

"We? We? You mean James and Peter knew about this?" Remus practically screamed.

"James and Peter don't just know, Moony. They can do it too- but they aren't dogs. We're Animagi now." Sirius said forcefully. "For you." He added, trying not to choke. _Please let him understand, please let him understand._

Remus stared at him. "For me? What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"We want to… We wanted to…" Sirius began. But then he stopped, something wasn't right about this conversation. It wasn't what he wanted to say at all. He didn't want to say these things to Moony angrily, yelling them across the room. He wanted to show Moony, to make sure he understood that Sirius wasn't just saying things, that he meant it too. Taking a deep breath, Sirius walked toward the other boy. Remus flinched backwards, away from the touch of his outstretched hand. The full moon would rise in just a few minutes, and there was a _human_ trying to touch him. It was overwhelming. He felt as is his mind was going to split apart, followed closely by his body. And then Sirius said something that made him freeze.

"I… I fancy you, Remus. I have since…since _forever_. I can't stand the thought of what you have to go through… alone… Not when you were there for me. I want to - I need to be able to be there for you, too. When you need me."

And his fingers gently wrapped around Remus' arm, pulling their bodies closer. His head was spinning, and his body was shaking, and the moon would be rising soon, and here was Sirius - _Sirius Black_ \- saying that he _fancied Remus_. The moment was beyond surreal. Remus didn't know what to do; he just stared wide-eyed at Sirius' beautiful, grey, pleading eyes. And he limply acquiesced to the boy's firm grasp.

"It's too late now to do anything else except go along with the plan." Sirius said.

_Bloody hell. I hate it when he's right like this._

"So I'm going to transform back into Padfoot. And we'll just have to see if Moony plays well with others."

 _Padfoot? Charming._ And then the big dog was standing in front of him again. Remus knelt down and tentatively ran his fingers through the black fur.

"Padfoot…" he tried the name out. The tail wagged twice, and the tongue lolled again. "Okay…" Remus whispered, his face pale with fear. "Padfoot… don't watch."

Remus saw the comprehension and the promise in the grey eyes; then the dog backed away, curling up in the corner. He whined softly once, and then closed his eyes. Trustingly…only the sort of faith that a dog is capable of demonstrating. Remus felt like he was going to be sick. He just knew that by the end of the night, he would be responsible for the brutal death of his best friend. A thousand horrible thoughts racing through his head, Remus moved to the other side of the room as if in a trance. He slowly took off his clothes, folded them obsessively neatly, and placed them up on the high shelf.

And then the moon rose.

Remus' body twisted around itself as he tried to satisfy both parts of his soul at once: the wolf clawing its way to the surface of his flesh, and the screaming, fighting human that was slowly being dragged down into darkness. Racked by bone-breaking pain, he stumbled back toward the slanting shadows in the tattered upstairs bedroom. The windows were dusty and barred by Dumbledore's strongest spells; the gloomy interior of the clawed, ripped bedroom was lit by the filtered light of the rising moon. It was just like every other night - the same torturous routine. Every muscle aching as they stretched and pulled, as bones magically grew and broke and rearranged themselves. He was tearing himself apart from the inside out, without actually breaking the skin. Then the thousand needle pricks across every inch of his skin, as his hair became fur. And the room pitched and slanted, skewed as his amber eyes reshaped themselves, becoming a gleaming golden-yellow; the world lost its beautiful color.

But this time something was different. Very, very different. Moony caught a scent that had never been there before. A familiar scent, not quite the human that the scent normally belonged to… but… At first the wolf snarled and raged, angry at the intrusion, frustrated by the nearness. But then, like a card in the game of exploding snap, it all cleared in a way that Moony had never expected.

He was Remus again. His body different, bent and caged inside a wolf…inside _Moony_ … but _he_ was there- thinking about it all.

 _This, I imagine, is what the wolf feels like the other 27 days of the month - a wolfish mind in unfamiliar flesh._ Remus thought, then he heard himself give a startled bark at the thought of having a thought. The sound came out as a growl, which startled him even more. The blind desire to howl, to run, to devour, returned; it overturned his mind and gripped his body.

Moony felt his muscles tense, his claws and teeth reaching out for the nearest thing to tear. There was a small yelp, like a dog shouting in a fight. Moony jumped back, surprised. And he felt his mind clear again. There was a large shaggy black dog in front of him - long claw marks dragged across his shoulder, among other bleeding cuts. But the dog was standing firmly, gazing resolutely at his eyes.

 _And what does he see?_ Moony thought. _Am I really Remus or Moony now?_ But the thought seemed ridiculous for the first time since Sirius had begun calling him that nickname. From now on Remus and Moony wouldn't be at odds with each other; they were the same creature, the same person. Just like the Animagus before him. His own Sirius, who _fancied_ him, was both the black haired arrogant wizard, and also the pad-footed, black furred dog.

The dog who was tentatively advancing closer and closer, with a slight limp.

 _Did I do that to him?_ Moony winced guiltily. But he was only momentarily distraught, as the dog reached his side - _definitely Sirius' smell_ \- and licked gently at one of the long cuts running along Moony's muzzle.

And suddenly Moony wanted to run, but not like before. Not the desperate, hungry pursuit of emptiness, but a joyful, head-long rushing romp. He let out a quick bark, and then raced toward the windows, _toward the moonlight for once_ , and let out a long melodious howl.

Padfoot gazed thoughtfully at the surprisingly graceful arch of the werewolf's neck as he raised his head, set back his ears, and broke into a howl. The silvery grey of his thick fur shining in the golden light from the full moon. He had seen it in the wolf's eyes, the darkness suddenly breaking apart to reveal the same inner light that often hid behind the exhaustion in Moony's eyes. Remus… Moony… they really were the same now. It had been a gamble- more of a risk than even James had been willing to admit- but he had been right.

And now they could be together. Always.

* * *

  
When he woke up in the morning, aching all over as usual but with a surprisingly few number of cuts, Remus Lupin knew what the full moon looked like. He had been bitten so young that he couldn't remember it from his childhood; and every night after, every other full moon of his life, he had never been quite human enough, quite sane enough, to remember something as seemingly commonplace as _what does the full moon really look like?_

Now he knew; now he could remember.

In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he could remember it all: the whole amazing night. Because he had actually _been_ there. Rather than a stowaway consciousness taken along for the ride, he had actually been himself. Granted, his body had transformed like it always did… But…but…

But the morning sun had never looked so promising.

Remus felt warm all over. He felt radiant, in fact. Absolutely glowing. If his body hadn't felt as though it had been run over by a bloody steamroller, he would have gotten up and danced. Thinking about getting up made him suddenly take stock of where he was… and who was right next to him.

Sirius Black.

Remus turned his head slightly, utterly astounded and partially fearful that if he jostled the sleeping boy the whole miraculous dream would evaporate; then he'd wake up in his bed in Gryffindor Tower and realize that it was only the morning of the full moon, and he had to go through his regular transformation all over again, only without the glorious fantasy of Sirius Black promising to be with him…always.

Sirius was snuggled up closely next to him, one arm flung protectively over Remus' body. Which he now realized with an embarrassed flush, was completely naked. That was usual, of course…but normally _Sirius Black_ wasn't lying right next to him. Sirius wasn't naked, but his clothes were all disheveled, as if he had spent all day and all night running about in them. Which, Remus thought wryly, in a way, he had. His face was angelic; it was amazing how peaceful and deceptively innocent Sirius could seem as he slept. As if knowing he was under scrutiny, Sirius exhaled a soft, contented sounding sigh, and nuzzled closer to Remus. His body curled unconsciously around the other boy's, fitting them together perfectly, as if they just naturally belonged that way.

One of Sirius' grey eyes fluttered open. He drowsily gazed at Remus' amber eyes. Lifting his hand from where it had been curling protectively around Remus' lower back, he lightly traced his fingertips across the skin of Remus' cheek. Remus half closed his eyes, and shivered at the utterly incredible sensation of the touch. Nobody, not even Pomfrey- and it was her _job_ \- nobody had ever _really_ touched him the morning after a full moon. Remus suppressed a moan as the fingers withdrew, and the hand replaced itself softly on Remus' hip.

"Hey, Moony. How're you?" Sirius mumbled sleepily. Remus blinked.

"Do you think the phrase 'we need to talk' is something of an understatement at this point in time?" He said huskily, his voice caught in his dry throat - only recently reformed for human vocal chords.

Sirius' eyes fluttered shut again. "Moony…"

Remus waited. He tried not to think about how sore he was. Or how naked.

"You talk too much in the morning." Sirius' voice was thick, sated and laced with contentment.

Yup. Remus was definitely still naked.

It was, perhaps, the best morning of his life.

* * *

  
"He's _my boyfriend_ now, Jamie." Sirius said it with a tone of voice that expressed his honest belief that this fact simply solved every possible problem that existed in the world. James Potter liked that about his best friend; even if he didn't always live up to expectations - and that was, honestly, quite often - he at least had lofty ideals. Sirius Black, in his heart, knew what the world was like and what the world was _supposed_ to be like. Sometimes he just sort of shied away from the harder parts. James considered this thoughtfully for a second, but decided that Sirius - and Remus too, for that matter - had already lived through enough of those harder parts to last anyone's lifetime. Maybe they both deserved something that would be painless, and enjoyable, and easy. So James merely shrugged, and redirected the conversation.

"But you can't stop the moon from rising." He pointed out. "So, maybe you could just _try_ to not let too many others know about your relationship? It's hard enough as it is for him, being _Moony_ … just don't let the Slytherins know that _Moony_ is with you, alright? He's got plenty of other things to think about without also having to trouble with homophobic snakes."

Sirius pouted, but didn't argue. Instead he simply muttered, "I'd kill anyone who hurt him."

"Riiight…" James said slowly, thinking about a better use for Sirius' reckless streak, "And in the meantime, we have the next full moon to plan for." Both boys brightened considerably; now that Moony had accepted Padfoot, and Remus and Sirius were also getting along quite nicely, Prongs and Wormtail were going to be introduced to the pack.

"And then, how are we going to go about… reintroducing the _wolf_ to the wild?" James murmured thoughtfully under his breath, giving Sirius a wicked grin.

Sirius thought back to that first morning, the golden light of dawn filtering in through the windows of the shack. Remus lay, delightfully starkers, nestled in his arms as they slept off the night of playful romping. After Moony had decided _not_ to kill Padfoot, and after that one breathless moment when Padfoot had seen the familiar spark return to Moony's eyes… they had spent the night sniffing and poking all around the shack. It was clear to Sirius that Moony had never actually explored his own… for lack of a better word, den. He should have expected such a response, of course, given how studious and inquisitive Remus-the-human was; of course, Remus-the-wolf would want to examine the confines of his elaborate cage. It had been surprising, however, how playful the wolf was. Together, amidst the peering and scratching, Moony and Padfoot had instinctively treated each other like long lost brothers, finally reunited. Like members of a pack. _Or,_ Sirius thought with a secret glow, _like lovers who threw caution to the wind and finally stopped circling each other_.

And two things became obvious to Padfoot. First, he would go utterly insane if he was cooped up in the shack every single full moon with a wolf, a stag, and a rat. Second, Moony-capable-of-thought, completely agreed with that assessment.

There was only one full moon left this term, at the end of November. They would use it to make sure that Moony was okay with Prongs and Wormtail. Then they would all sign up to stay over the winter break. If Remus wanted to see his parents… well, Sirius would just have to be very _persuasive_. Remus was, after all, surprisingly fond of -not to mention surprisingly good at - snogging.

"We'll have to use the winter break to convince him." Sirius said wickedly, thinking of all the other types of convincing he could do with Moony in a mostly-empty Gryffindor Tower. "With most of the students gone from Hogwarts, it will be our best chance to get him out of that shack. And, I'll bet anything, once he's out -he'll never want to go back."

"You're certain?" James asked.

"Believe me." Sirius replied, winking saucily at his best friend. He wiggled his hips a little to remind James that Remus was, after all, very much _out_ in other ways.

"Oh. Oh yeah. That makes sense, I guess." James laughed.

"Besides," Sirius continued, leaning closer and lowering his voice conspiratorially, "I think I have an idea that will seal the deal."

James leaned in, and cocked an eyebrow at Sirius. "What's that Padfoot?"

"A map, my dear Prongs." Sirius smiled, "We're going to make a map. The four of us. Moony wants to make mischief, you know it. I know it. Even if we have to convince Remus that we're doing it for the _sake_ of collecting information for some studious purpose… well, that will just give him some excuse to repeat to himself whenever he has an attack of conscience. And Moony won't argue."

"A map…" James repeated thoughtfully. He ran a hand through his hair, and tapped his finger against his lower lip. "You know… that could… _really_ come in handy…"

The two best friends, eyes alight, shared a wicked grin. "To the library, then?" Sirius asked with a cavalier tone.

"Aye, aye!" James replied shoving his textbooks aside, "Off to brave the seas of the studious Ravenclaws, to gather riches among the pages of lore about magical-map-making techniques."

Sirius grinned. "But our map won't lead to pirate's treasure… It will be the treasure itself!"

"Yeah," James agreed, "Padfoot and Prongs' Pirate's Map."

"The Marauder's Map, me matie."

"Ooo, much better."

"The Marauder's Map it is, then… Won't Moony be thrilled?"


	6. Revealing Severus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A familiar extra-credit assignment is given for Potions

"At this point in time," Professor Slughorn said with measured sternness from the front of the Potions classroom, "I am sure most of you are beginning to consider the impact of the OWLs upon your grades, and upon your future."

Remus looked up quickly, from where he was trying to clean up the mess that Wormtail had made. This sounded suspiciously like…

"It is therefore my habit at this time of year to offer a bit of … extra credit… to my fifth years. It will give you a chance to test your Potions skills. And to earn some extra points before next term begins, and the _real_ pressure is on."

Remus swallowed quickly, biting his tongue and resisting the urge to glance back at Severus. The Slytherin boy hadn't spoken to Remus all year. He'd avoided him in classes, and pointedly ignored him in favor of Dark books and other Slytherins between school. Trying to catch his eye now would only make the ruined friendship even more cataclysmically dismal.

All around him, the other students were buzzing excitedly about the unthinkable idea of a professor setting an extra credit assignment.

"You can work in small groups to attempt this… particularly involved… Potion. I will not tell you the name or the effects of the successfully completed brew, thus you will not be able to research or to ask for any outside help in the potion-making process. You will have only the written instructions- " a wave of his wand made little slips of creamy parchment appear at each student's spot, "- and access to the ingredients listed. You will have one week, including the weekend, to do the assignment - if you so desire. Don't worry about trying to bottle the finished product; I have…my ways of knowing if the Potion was successfully brewed, and who was involved in the concocting of it."

Hearing the instructions, knowing the truth of the assigned Potion, Remus was amazed at how highly suspicious it sounded. But, Remus realized, if he _hadn't_ already known… he would definitely be one of the studious pupils diligently studying the assignment, and desperately planning the best way to earn the extra points.

Instead, Remus was desperately trying to plan the best way to avoid the project without any of the others noticing his… highly unusual disinterest. This might be the only time in history that Remus J. Lupin chose _not_ to do schoolwork. 

 _Except that one night, in the library, with Sirius…_ Remus remembered; his chest constricted suddenly with the warm, happy feeling he always got now, whenever he thought about his… _boyfriend_. Remus knew that his normally serious and collected face was breaking apart into a soppy Gryffindor grin. He couldn't help it; Sirius just made him so…so… warm and tingly.

Remus snuck a sideways glance over to where his … _boyfriend!_ … was sitting with James. They had spent the last full moon together. The idea was still impossibly odd to Remus: to have spent the full moon _with_ someone. He was used to being alone, to being isolated. To watching even his clinging, smothering mother become edgy and closed off. Everything withdrew on a full moon - physical touch, personal interaction, and then finally, even his humanity. But the last full moon had been unlike anything Remus had ever dreamed of; he certainly would never have allowed himself to dream of anything like it.

That was the best part about Sirius Black. Sometimes the boy was an amazing dunderhead…but sometimes, the times that really counted, he would wrap his mind around something and _really understand_. And then, when it truly mattered, Sirius would find some clever, daring, _utterly idiotic_ , way to see it through. That was how Remus knew that he truly mattered to Sirius; that _he_ was in a _real relationship_ with Sirius. Because Sirius paid attention to him; because Sirius thought about Remus, and about Moony, and about both parts of himself all wrapped up into the same coherent thought. In fact, that was precisely it: Sirius Black brought coherency to Remus' life.

Remus suddenly felt tender all over, as if his whole body could simply curl up around this warm, happy feeling and spend the rest of forever nestled in that spot. It was a feeling he had first noticed that night, in the library, with Sirius. But at the time, he had dismissed it. Run away from it was more accurate. There had been too much revealed and left open, confusing and raw, to add _feelings_ on top of the mix. So Remus had tucked it away, and buried his thoughts in schoolwork. But the feeling had come back - more and more often connected to Sirius. Well, with a few specific blokes, really… but _mostly_ connected to Sirius.

And then he had woken up, the first day of the new month, on the first day of his new life: and Sirius had been there. Remus knew that he wanted Sirius to be there for many, many more 'first days' for a long, long time. Remus wouldn't allow himself to think, or hope, for anything more than that. There was life beyond Hogwarts, and Remus had no idea where he was going to fit into it. But maybe, just maybe, life beyond Hogwarts could include mornings like that golden hazy dream where Sirius had mumbled sleepily ' _you talk too much in the morning_ ' as if they were…and old married couple. And it was utterly normal to wake up nestled together, even after a full moon.

Abrupt rustling noises brought Remus sharply back to the moment. Sirius and James were intently discussing…oh yes, plans to brew that awful purple potion. And Peter would be desperate, as usual, for any extra help he could get in his Potions grade. Everyone around Remus was moving, packing away their schoolbooks and getting up to leave. Torn between warm-Sirius-happy-thoughts and sobering-forbidden-memory thoughts, Remus finished cleaning up the remnants of Peter's exploded potion with a quick _Scourgify_. Then he contemplated ducking out of the classroom without his friends…for the whole week.

An ill-timed glance at the door, and Remus found himself frozen suddenly by the dark eyes of Severus Snape. Their eyes locked for one, bitterly cold second and then with a swift billow of black school robes, Severus disappeared beyond the doorway.

Remus swallowed hard, and tried to force the sudden shooting pain back down. He hadn't realized how much losing his friendship with Severus had cost him. Remus had been too busy, well, being _happy_ with Sirius; and, with an extra painful twist of his gut, Remus realized guiltily that Severus would not have so easily replaced the loss of Remus with other friends of his own. Remus wasn't necessarily that much more popular than Severus, but Slytherins were certainly less… warm and openly comforting… than Gryffindors.  
If he could just get by without getting entangled by that dratted purple potion for the second year in a row… then he could look forward to the full moon at the end of the month. The irony did not escape Remus' notice that, for the first time in his life, he was dreading a week of normal life, and longing instead for one night of brutal transformation.

* * *

  
Severus Snape carefully checked the ingredients on the list. It was the last night of the extra credit assignment. Severus had put it off and would have refused to help the other Slytherins, if they had actually asked. But he could not just let an opportunity like this go by; not when he was guaranteed to be successful. Not when it meant extra points in Potions. Severus had known the moment Slughorn had set the assignment that he would have to find a way to brew the potion again. But this time, no fucking Gryffindors. He had meant to sweep out of the Potions classroom without so much as a backwards glance, but someone had said his name. At least, Severus was _certain_ that someone had said his name, because there was no other logical reason for why he had paused, and turned over his shoulder.

It was old habit, not yet broken, he supposed that drew their eyes together, out of a whole room full of other eyes. Infuriating the way old habits would push a body into actions that the mind stiffly refused. Severus was going to be the master of himself, mind _and_ body. Ruled by no one. Not by his Slytherin … associates; certainly not by a bloody Gryffindor.

Severus tightened his grip angrily on the cauldron as he slipped out of the Slytherin dungeon to find a convenient and well-hidden place to brew. Some place no one would find him, no one would join him, and no one would profit from his skills. Thinking about Re… _Recent_ events in the Potions classroom, and thinking about old habits brought one other person to mind. That damn wanker, Sirius Black.

Severus thought of Sirius Black with the same amount of animosity and anger that he reserved only for his father. Both were arrogant. Both were brutes lacking in even the most basic finesse or subtlety. Both took what they wanted without regard for anyone else in the room. Both tried to kick Severus around like a dog. Father failed to do so because Severus had learned long ago how to beat him at his own game. Sirius Black failed to do so because now Severus refused to be kicked. He was not going to be the punching bag that stood in place of the entire Black family; as if Sirius could take his revenge against every pureblooded Dark wizard on earth by beating up on Severus Snape every time it took his fancy.

If Sirius Black was as bloody idiotic as to reject the benefits that being a Black offered, fine. If Sirius Black was too dense and too stubborn to realize that besting one's family required patience and precision, not arrogance and brute strength, fine. But Severus Snape wasn't going to sit around watching Sirius Black learn those lessons the hard way.

Reminded of the _lessons_ that Severus, himself, had been learning recently, he leered at the empty Hogwarts hallway. His Slytherin … associates…had a certain slant in their view of life; but Severus Snape had no desire to be on the receiving end of things anymore. And if Dark Arts, and even a certain amount of blood-snobbery, got him friends in higher places than no-account Fathers… it was more than Sirius Black had achieved for himself.

Severus was somewhere on the seventh floor by now, pacing back and forth moodily by some ridiculous tapestry. It continued to gall him the way that Sirius Black didn't have to _work_ for the things he had in his life. _That smug dog_ , Severus growled. He thought briefly about how Sirius had been acting recently, like he'd won some bloody treasure. Well he could keep his Galleons, because all Severus Snape really wanted was Re… _Really_ good marks in Potions.

And to show up Slughorn for passing Snape over, one of his own Slytherins, when he chose students for his vaunted little club.

And then to become a great Potions Master. And to get out from under his bastard father's thumb, to do great things, brilliant things; to introduce the name _Snape_ to the wizarding word with prestige and regained wealth. And then finally- _finally_ \- have others recognize how magnificent he was. That he had a brilliant mind, and a keen eye for details, and a poise and knack for precision equaled by only Re… _Rare_ individuals.

Severus noticed for the first time that he was pacing back and forth before a doorway. It was a highly polished and heavy wood, with a brass handle. Curious, and recalling that he was looking for a room to brew his potion, Severus shifted his armful of ingredients and tools to one side, and pushed the door open.

It was perfect.

The room was the most glorious workshop that Severus had ever seen. It could have belonged to the greatest Potions Master of all time. It looked suspiciously like the dungeons, considering that he was on the seventh floor, and nowhere near the stone-walled, underground rooms where Severus spent most of his time. And yet, the walls were smoothly worn grey stone, as was the floor. A fireplace graced the wall to his left, providing ample warmth, and a large work-cauldron hung on a swinging arm at the fire. Beside that, a whole rack was dedicated to holding cauldrons of various sizes, and, Severus already knew, various Potion-uses. Those racks extended into shelves that turned the corner, and ran along the wall immediately along Severus' left. They were crammed full of measuring devices, scales, bottles, drams, and other such tools of the trade.

The wall opposite the fireplace was neatly, pristinely, organized into shelves of ingredients. The middle of the room was dominated by a series of worktables, placed in an H-shape. Opposite Severus, beyond the tables and against the furthest wall, was open counter space, broken only by the presence of two industrial-looking sinks. A person could probably wash an erumpent in such sinks.

The room was warm, thanks to the fire, but not particularly cozy; it was not very decorative either. It was a room designed and maintained for the execution of a very precise craft, and needed no extra frills or paintings or tapestries to make it feel well-loved or homey. Severus was in heaven. He felt oddly, for a fleeting moment, as if he were gazing at his future, but quickly pushed aside such ridiculously _Gryffindor_ -esque sentiments. He firmly shut the door behind him, and deposited his burdens on the main table in the middle of the room. He shed his school robes, finding to his extreme satisfaction that a row of hooks were placed along the wall to the right of the door exactly for the purpose of holding discarded robes.

And then Severus did something he always longed to do, but could never allow himself the pleasure while in class or doing homework: he rolled up the sleeves of his school shirt, folding the fabric precisely four times, then pushing them the rest of the way over his elbows.

Feeling surprisingly _satisfied_ , Severus continued to indulge in the moment. As he surveyed the room once more, he removed his school tie, draping the green and silver striped fabric across the back of the nearest bar-stool style chair. Without thinking, he even unbuttoned the first three buttons of his shirt. _This_ , he thought with the confident pleasure of an artist finally in his element, _is the way Potions are supposed to be brewed._

Severus distractedly pushed the tiresome strands of hair away from his face, and moved intently to the work set before him. Perhaps it was a trick of the firelight, or perhaps it was only seeing what he wanted to see…either way, Severus Snape did not notice the second door, nestled in the corner between the far edge of the fireplace, and the wall of counters and sinks. In fact, he didn't even really raise his eyes until the Potion was mostly done brewing, sitting in his cauldron on the middle table. Familiar watery-bubbly sounds were issuing from the cauldron as it overflowed again with the soothing silvery-purple mist. At that point, knowing he had once again been successful, and also mindful of the consequences of that success, Severus used his last bit of clinical focus to turn abruptly over his right shoulder and mutter a firm locking spell on the doorway behind him. If he was going to be… the way he had been last year… Severus Snape was most certainly _not_ going to roaming the hallways looking for Re… _Really_ good food to eat.

When he turned back to the cauldron he realized that Remus Lupin was standing in the corner of the room, by the fireplace. From the way his tie was loosened, and his shirt somewhat sloppily untucked, and his feet bare, Severus got the distinct impression of a boy who had abruptly risen from lounging and departed his home on some sudden errand. From the way that Remus was standing awkwardly, shifting as if his legs were becoming sore, Severus got the distinct impression of a boy who had been forcing himself to stand very still for quite some time.

They just stared at each other for a couple silent minutes. Remus' amber eyes reflected the burning firelight with an odd intensity that Severus found absorbing; unsettling. They had avoided looking at each other for almost an entire year, and somehow in that time, Remus had gone off and… attained a certain intensity, a deep wildness. Severus, in his cool analytic way, suspected that the fiery-golden-glow and wild passion had always been carefully hidden underneath Remus' composed exterior, much in the same way that Severus kept his own secret passions held back, in check, by bitterness, sarcasm, long sleeves, and buttoned-up shirts.

For one, excruciatingly long moment, Severus felt a deep lance of jealousy, wondering _who_ had been with Remus that had unlocked that beautiful, alluring, depth. Severus wasn't so young or naïve to believe it was anything other than sex or love, or perhaps both, that had allowed Remus to find himself in that way. And Severus knew then that neither one of them was still so young or naïve that the Potion would be the same _this_ year as it had been last year.

"How did you find this place?" Severus finally asked. Damn it, he was already hor... _hungry_.

"The _other_ door." Remus said, licking his lips nervously. He gestured over his shoulder, body grateful to be released from the aching stillness. "Should…should…I leave?" His tone of voice was apologetic, but he made no move.

"How long have you been here?" Severus asked sharply, realization washing over him. He was riveted by the fascinating details of Remus Lupin's honey colored hair. In firelight, nonetheless. _Bloody Potion,_ even his asperity was slipping away.

"Since… since you began chopping the…umm…" Remus swallowed suddenly, and felt the need to explain himself, "I was just sitting in the dorm room. James and…and Sirius… were off. And Peter was trying to brew this… _again_ … because I wouldn't have anything to do with it _this time_. Peter is utterly hopeless when it comes to Potions."

Severus was staring at his mouth, as if memorizing the way it moved around each word. Remus recalled with a shiver, that under the influence of the bloody purple Potion, Severus was probably doing exactly that. But then, again, Remus didn't feel particularly like caring. He was absorbing the way his own voice echoed through the room, and the way his bare feet felt against the cool smoothness of the stone floor.

"Then I just… I don't know… felt a tug. Like I suddenly needed to be somewhere else; like my presence was _required_. I walked through the Common Room, and saw a door I had never seen before. It to the door over there, and this room." Remus caught his breath, and shut his mouth awkwardly. Why hadn't he just turned around and left the moment he walked in? But Remus knew the answer to that question. He had felt that pang when their eyes had met a week ago; that sharp bitter sorrow at having lost a friend. And then he entered the room and saw that friend, and felt a pang of pitiful hope that …perhaps…

And the sight of Sev had been breathtaking, after all.

It had been entrancing, even without the effects of the partially-brewing Potion already beginning to work on the room. Living among Muggles, Remus hardly ever got to see Potions Masters at work; but he _had_ seen chefs on the telly - and once when he was younger, his parents had taken him to London and he had seen a sculptor at work at Tate. It was all the same. The precision, the skill, the natural ease underscored by intensity and passion that made even the simple task of chopping roots look like… Remus had been intrigued by the pale skin that Severus rarely exposed. Remus had been absorbed by the methodical beauty of Sev's exacting work. Remus had been too afraid of making any noise to be able to move back to the door, back to the hall, and back to the Gryffindor Common Room.

Now Remus watched with growing anticipation as Severus exhaled and shut his eyes. Everything was moving in slow motion; his pale hands and long skillful fingers reached up and rubbed exhaustedly at the worry-crease that had formed between his brows. Then his muscles twisted, his jaw moved, and his lips parted. Words came out.

"You've been here too long. This… Potion… begins _weaving_ its effect even as its own ingredients are being _woven_ together…" Severus opened his eyes then, and gave the potion spilling out between them a look that could only be given by a master to a particularly intricate and well-crafted work, even one that the master himself found distasteful.

 _And_ , Remus added silently, _with my werewolf metabolism, that means the Potion would have begun affecting me nearly immediately._ Wishing silently that he had ignored the tug, that he felt slightly more _relaxed_ like he had last year, Remus wished desperately that Severus wouldn't be angry with him.

"Go lock that door, then, Remy." Sev's voice cut through his worried thoughts. "You should not be roaming about the halls tonight." Shivering with relief, and with the startled realization that Sev, after a year of brooding silence, had just used the secret nickname born exactly a year ago under the same circumstances, Remus turned and shut the odd doorway in the corner. When he returned, Remus carefully took a seat at one of the bar-stool looking chairs along the side table by the fireplace. He liked being close to the source of warmth in the room, and he didn't know how close he could get to Sev. But he also knew, feeling almost guilty unsettled, that he _did_ want to be close to Sev. Perhaps, if only, for that one night.

"So… what now, Sev?" he asked, his voice a constrained whisper. _Bloody hell,_ he was surprisingly hor… _hungry_.

"The Potion will run its course." Severus said, his voice an odd mixture of velvet and irritation. "Thankfully, I only made a small batch, only expecting _myself_ to be involved. With _two_ of us now, the effect should be diluted - and I expect the small batch to dissipate quickly enough." His voice was smooth and surprisingly cold; the words were carefully, slowly formed and fell from his mouth in measured syllables. Remus blinked at the electric feel of the air between his body and Sev's _mouth_.

 _Just the effect of the purple Potion_ , he reminded himself firmly, trying to push the disturbing thoughts away. But, even with Sirius held at the forefront of his mind, Remus couldn't help but lean forward, searching for the boy he once liked. The pale Slytherin who had found his way to Hogwarts on his own, who was Remus' equal in skill and precision, who Remus had once known and understood, and liked.

Severus blinked as he felt the familiar feelings swirling in his stomach again. Hadn't he laid them to rest a year ago? Hadn't he spent that whole miserable summer carefully locking it all away? Hadn't his _dear_ Father already made it _abundantly_ clear what would happen to Severus if he…

Much to his relief, not _all_ of the same effects were returning; he certainly didn't feel as… _giggly_ … as he had been last year. It was, however, disquieting, how incredibly _revealing_ Severus felt. He supposed it was due to the fact that he had thought that he was alone, and had allowed himself to drop his guard. He took a prolonged moment to mentally berate himself; never again would he allow himself to be caught with his sleeves rolled up or his shirt buttons undone!

But the damage was done. Severus could keenly hear Remus inhaling and exhaling, like tremulous notes of a song. His own heart was throbbing in a relentless sort of beat, pushing and hinting and _thrumming…and longing_ … If he couldn't ignore the firelight and the dizzying effect of the Potion, and the sinking effect of the nearness, then Severus _must_ find a way to distract himself. To distract them both, apparently, judging by the heavy-lidded gaze that Remy had fixed on his throat. So Severus began to speak.

"Normally I would not have even considered… a repeat of last year's experience." Severus experimentally tried to insert loftiness into the statement. It sounded bitter, yearning; so he tried again with arrogance. "But I am the most skilled fifth year, after all; and I _will_ be awarded the top score. I _will_ get into the NEWT-level Potions course." That came out hollow, desperate.

Thinking about desperation, Severus realized that desperate desire had crept up on him. Desire, that sneaky bitch. He yanked his eyes away from the glow of the firelight on Remy's cheek and reminded himself firmly that _someone else_ had brought the other boy alive. For all he knew, that _someone else_ was probably still …with … Remy. It was a sickening sort of choking feeling that filled Severus then; he felt like he could throw his head back and simply scream at the stone ceiling above them. The Potion was getting harder to ignore. He wanted to taste salt, skin, and sweat. And he wanted to feel the incredible sensation of human touch, of fingertips dragging softly along his skin; Severus could only imagine how _amazing_ it would feel at this exact moment. He was not on the receiving end of nearly enough touch, and most of what he _did_ get was the sort that left red marks and bruises. And Severus returned to his thoughts about desperation, and knew he needed to distract himself again, _now_.

"It's important to me, Remy. You don't understand: I _love_ \--" _-you-_ "--Potions. My whole future is built on becoming a Potions Master. And…" his voice dropped quietly in the large, hollow room, "and from getting out of my Father's house. My mother… she'll never leave. I used to think maybe she would, but I know she won't. She can't. Mum is just too….too weak. I'll never be weak like that; never be trapped by someone else's… control…"

Remus' eyes grew wide as Sev's voice dropped. He was being amazingly… revealing. Only the Potion could possibly induce such a thing. Remus should have known it would be like this, Sev had been revealing his hidden self the entire time. His turned-up sleeves were only part of it. And Sev's words began to sketch out an image of what _home_ and _family_ meant to the boy that Remus had only vaguely guessed before. It made sense, really, but in a twisted horrifying way that was only amplified by the effects of the Potion.

Looking at Severus, Remus realized that only a year ago his hair and clothes had been unkempt in a distracted sort of way; in the same way that an artist or craftsman would routinely forget to be bothered by keeping up appearances. Now, however, the hair and clothing was dirty and stringy and unkempt in a deeper, more raw way; the way that comes from years of neglect and ill-treatment finally surfacing. _This time last year_ , Remus thought with a shuddering pang of remorse and heart-ache, _he might have been a mess, but he was a messy sort of Mona Lisa…Now, though... Some prick has gone and defaced my oil painting_.

"It's more than just weakness, isn't it Sev?" Remus murmured before he could stop himself, the words humming across his lips. Severus swallowed, and turned away. Remus was enchanted by the graceful precision of the movement, by the stretch of Sev's neck. He sucked in a gasp of surprise at the way, enhanced by the firelight and by the raw, unguarded openness, Sev looked fully himself, filling out his profile in an elegant, aristocratic way rather than the usual awkward ill-sized bearing he usually held.

Staring intensely at the fire to his left, Severus forced himself to not leap across the table at the sound of Remy's strangled gasp. Severus held himself firmly back, strangling his own impulse to grab Remy fiercely and pull him so close that the space between them melts away. Then he could show the golden boy just what happens to those who break through Sev's carefully calculated fronts.

 _How dare he just reappear like this and have the audacity to … to ask about… that. As if this were something that could just be spoken about, but not experienced; could just be calmly discussed, and not unleashed upon someone's life. Damn the bloody Potion! I will NOT allow myself to be made weak - to be so… exposed._ Severus clenched his jaw as best he could, but his mouth was moving again. Well… words were better than the alternative course of action.

"I have lived my life perfectly content to be … on my own, Remus." Silently, Severus congratulated himself on his ability to insert Remy's full name into the conversation. He resolutely kept his eyes glued to the flickering fire, to avoid seeing the reaction that Remus would no doubt have to hearing the full name. It would weaken his resolve, and weakness was tantamount to becoming his Mum. And that was equal to being the whipping dog for the Fathers of the world.

"My alternative is to be _weakened_. To allow myself to be exposed and helpless to the mercies of others. I will be my own master in life." Severus knew his words sounded hollow, like empty gestures made against an approaching storm. Remus flinched as he heard for the first time the self-loathing underlying all of Severus' reproachful words. All of Sev's peculiar cold severity and growing detachment over the past year unfolded like an obvious map before Remus' eyes.

They were basically the same age, after all, and experiencing the same… _changes_ … in their lives. Remus, however, had the comfort of a decent home, the serendipitous support of Muggle culture, and the unbelievable miracle of his friends. And the difference was clear: Remus had been drawn out, nurtured and given room to grow; Remus had been given glitter and a boyfriend. _What had Severus been given?_ Remus wondered briefly, his eyes drawing across the new tightness in Sev's muscles, the increasingly guarded expressions, the extra lines of worry and stress where before skin had been smooth.

"But, Sev…you could have… _said something to me._ " Remus' voice was pleading, desperate, but raw. He hoped Severus could feel the space between them melt away. He willed the other boy to feel the rushing mix of emotions. To be comforted by them in some way. But the voice that responded was quickly regaining the careful coldness.

"I couldn't very well have spent time with _you_ , now could I? Bloody Gryffindor. _Bloody prat boyfriend_ of yours always _in my way_!"

Remus blinked in surprise. The voice was cold, but the Potion-induced blunt honesty was still there. The combination was like a lover's slap. Severus, still resolutely refusing to meet his eye, was hunched in on himself, his dark eyes brooding. Remus wasn't even sure how Severus could possibly know about Sirius, they'd only just become boyfriends. He chewed on his lower lip at the reminder of Sirius; Sirius, the "prat boyfriend" who was probably beginning to wonder where Remus had disappeared to…

"But, Sev…" he floundered for words, and then finally spluttered exasperated, "I'm here _now_ \- talk to me!"

And then Severus turned, fixing Remus with a dark, icy gaze full of pain, and underneath that, the dying ashes of longing.

"And tell you what? Why should I explain myself to you, Remy? Should I explain that I hate myself for being so weak? Or that yes, it's entirely true: I have been spending my spare time studying extra hard, in _extra_ subjects. Don't forget that I'm not a bloody Gryffindor like you; I'm a Slytherin. I'll use any resource at my disposal to achieve my goals.

Oh, don't look so scandalized, _Remy_ , you begged me to talk to you, after all.

Should I tell you all the details about my _dirty_ little home life, so that you can feel like a proper Gryffindor, and stand loyally by me as I suffer? I don't want any of your _pity_ ; what I want is to be left _alone_ , so I can continue systematically deconstructing my weaknesses. I will use the Dark Arts, just the same way I'll use the other Slytherins. I'm going to get away from my dirty, disgusting past; going to find something _exact_ , something pure and untainted - like a perfectly distilled potion - I'm going to distill power and respect. I'll bottle fame and brew glory. And I'll never be sullied by impurities ever again."

Remus blinked at the icy bite in Sev's voice. Only Severus Snape would be able to make personal disclosure sound like torture as the hands of some Dark Lord. Remus shivered, a sudden sense of dark foreboding joining with the cold spot in his stomach.

Pushing those thoughts aside with a shudder, Remus realized that Severus had actually dodged around the invitation to open up rather than honestly reveal anything. Given his verbal obsession with things clean or unclean, Remus had the sneaking suspicion that Severus had not even fully divulged to himself the name of the source of his…estranged relationships. Would Severus ever name the things that ruled his life? Would he ever speak the name of the dynamic that ran between his Father and him? Or that had once, briefly, joined himself and Remus?

Breathing a heavy sigh, Remus realized that the Potion was definitely wearing off. He felt exhausted and heavy; and, clearly, Severus was not feeling as…open…as he had under the Potion's spell. Longing for his bed, and for the comfort of Sirius' arms wrapped around him, Remus had only one last thing he needed to work out. Not sure how to approach the question, Remus quietly rose. He ran his hands nervously along his shoulders, grasping at the base of his neck. Then he dropped his arms dejectedly and moved mutely toward the strange door in the corner. It felt as though the fire had died down, throwing a chill and strange shadows about the room. They angled about the room, slanting across Sev… aging him as he ran his hands restlessly over his gaunt face and sallow skin. Remus was amazed at the disparity of the two men he had seen: the Severus that he could be, relaxed and open in his element, and the Severus that truly existed, mostly mask and calculated distance. Perhaps if someone offered to meet Severus halfway, he would gradually become comfortable revealing his true self, his inner thoughts…or, Merlin forbid, what he _actually felt_ under his carefully crafted veneer. Remus reached the doorway and pulled open the door; then he paused, hand resting on the solid wood. He turned back around to face his companion.

"Can we ever… go back to being friends?" his voice was a hoarse whisper, plaintive against the chilling silence.

"Just go, Remus. Turn, walk away - go back to your bed." The response was hollow, too exhausted from bearing the weight of the ordeal to even entertain the question, let alone the possibilities.

"Just say goodbye."

* * *

  
Remus struggled to keep his eyes focused as he blearily knotted his tie and tried to shuffle his Potions textbook into his satchel for classes. Just like last year, he looked like crap: his eyes bloodshot, his face tired, and his whole body gaunt with the mild symptoms of withdrawl.  _Damn bloody purple potion…_ he thought with a bitter pain that almost felt like regret. _At least everyone else looks just as bad…except Peter, poor bloke; he really needed the extra credit, too…_ His train of thought abruptly petered off as Sirius Black lazily rubbed his own bloodshot eyes and peered owlishly at Remus.

"Moony!" Sirius' voice was surprised and curious, "You did the extra credit assignment, too? I thought you had decided you didn't need more points." His question quickly melted into a pout: "If you changed your mind, why didn't you come join me and Prongs? Or helped out Wormtail?"

The bitter pain was back, but this time it felt suspiciously reticent. Remus wanted to curl up back in bed, go back to where he was the night before - innocently studying - and completely ignore the…pull… he had felt. Without knowing exactly why, Remus hesitated. _Should I explain to Sirius? Will he understand… that I didn't mean to… to what, exactly? Nothing happened except Severus and I spent an uncomfortable amount of time locked together under the influence of that dratted potion. Bloody hell, my head hurts! Oh shite, Padfoot looks… suspicious._

"errr." Remus mumbled, as Sirius blinked at him. Even more surprised by Remus' inexplicable hesitation, Sirius suddenly felt the icy grip of insecurity wrap around his stomach. _What isn't he telling me? Why did he not want to brew the potion with me? Who did he brew it with instead? What did they do… without me?_

And suddenly, with a flash of white-hot angry insight, Sirius knew. The stray memory came floating back to the front of his mind; he had seen Remus looking exactly like this almost exactly one year ago. Remus had told them all that he had unfortunately been exposed to a potion some fifth years had brewed, but had carefully not said anything else. It had to have been the same potion. There was only one other fifth year who Remus would consider working with other than his friends; only one other fifth year who Remus could be certain wouldn't potentially ruin his Potions grade with a botched potion.

Sirius narrowed his eyes, trying to make them focus properly in the harsh morning light. _Is there a shadow between us, or can I really just not see properly this morning?_ Sirius glared angrily, his thoughts already expanding into how he would hex anyone who would stoop so low as to drug and then take advantage of his friend… of his _boyfriend_.

Feeling rather like a beetle caught by a pin, Remus swallowed tightly, trying to find the best way to explain. "I didn't mean to, Padfoot. I… I really didn't intend to get anywhere near that… that infernal potion again." 

 _Again. So I was right… it was the same potion as last year_.

"For some reason, maybe it had to do with the potion's effects, or something, I was here - and then I was somewhere else. I didn't even recognize the room, actually. I was just sitting at my bed one moment, and the next moment I was just _..._ And then the potion was already having an effect on me, because - _you know_ \- I have a higher metabolism than everyone else… I couldn't help it. Really. I didn't mean to be there, but I had to just stay put. And it wasn't enjoyable at all. I'm really sorry. S-Severus only brewed a small amount; nothing happened and I left as soon as the effect faded; and came back here; and nothing happened _at all_." Remus' words tumbled out plaintively, stumbling guiltily over Severus' name and rushing through the end bit. But he wanted to be truthful even though he felt vaguely as if he were confessing to snogging with someone else. Or, Merlin forbid, shagging someone else.

It was because it was _Sirius_ and because it was _Severus_ that it felt that way. Remus wondered if he would ever understand exactly why and exactly how it started - whatever _it_ was that hovered like a shadow between those two boys. Even though they weren't exactly boys anymore. Remus tried to shrug out from underneath the weight of his thoughts. He gave Sirius a hopeful smile and moved trippingly toward his boyfriend. Perhaps, with a light touch of fingers on his arm, perhaps Sirius would think nothing of it, and they could just ignore the whole thing again for the second year in a row. Although Sirius accepted the gentle touch on his arm, his face was white and rigid. His eyes were dark, stormy with unspoken thoughts, and he did not say a word. He only pressed his lips tightly together in a thin line.

Remus reminded himself that, after last night, he no longer had any sort of friendship with Severus Snape; and he did not have to feel guiltily responsible for stepping in between any future disputes between the Slytherin who had rejected Remus, and the Gryffindor who was dating Remus.

If only it were that simple.


	7. Lupercalia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationships are complicated... especially when you are a magical creature.

Remus Lupin chewed thoughtfully on his lip and stared blankly at the calendar. It was the first of February. The fifteenth would be in exactly two weeks.

Lupercalia.

Remus was not exactly looking forward to his second experience of the…event… even if Dumbledore had promised that, theoretically, the only the first time hurt quite so badly. There was also the added complication that he and Sirius Black were definitely _together_ now. What would he tell Sirius? How would he explain… what it meant.

Perhaps he could just brood the month away, and blame it on the moon… No such luck, really. With the full moon just recently passed, and the next moon not until the 26th there was no way that his friends would just accept that the werewolf was having a particularly bad month. Especially not now that the werewolf had a pack, and was actually _enjoying_ the full moons. Remus shivered in secret guilty delight.

Blinking back to the calendar on his lap, Remus resumed his pensive contemplation of how to broach the subject with Sirius; how to explain that he… wasn't really certain about how to act, or what to do, in two week's time. It honestly wasn't a question he was truly entertaining; the pragmatic, realistic side of himself was already sternly reminding himself that he was too young, it was too soon in their relationship, and Sirius was too… Sirius… to even suggest such a serious step. They were still in school, for Merlin's sake!

But, the needy, hungry, lonely side of himself was deeply touched by the way Sirius was _so tender_ after the full moon had set. The way that Sirius had already fallen into the habit of wearing an extra cloak as he transformed into Padfoot, so that it would be handy no matter where they ended up. The way that Sirius would take the cloak from his shoulders and gently wrap Remus up, cradling the aching boy in warmth and love. The way Sirius had taught himself the _mobilicorpus_ charm, so that Remus never had to stumble his own way back to the shack, barefoot and groaning from the night's activities and the morning's transformation.

Maybe there were other blokes in the world who would do those kinds of things for Remus Lupin. But, then again, maybe not. And even if there were… Remus really didn't see why he would bother trying to be selective; why hold out to experience other relationships when _Sirius Black_ was all but giving up the rest of his life to do nothing else except protect and care for you… Then again, maybe the answer was in the question.

There was a soft hand on his shoulder. Remus broke through his reverie and looked up into the soft grey eyes that always entranced him so.

"Hey, Moony. What are you up to?" the other boy asked warmly. They were always more free to be expressive with each other safely tucked away in their dorm room in Gryffindor Tower. Remus was careful not to be too obviously in love with Sirius anywhere else because he worried that a Slytherin might see, and make the connection. The last thing Sirius needed was the negative attention of Slytherin House again; or… heaven forbid… his family. Remus was also quite certain that Sirius was similarly careful not to be too obviously taken with Remus, because he was worried a Slytherin might see, and make the connection; and the last thing Remus needed was an additional source of stress in his otherwise already-crazy life.

Sirius, in the meantime, had dropped down next to Remus on the edge of his bed, snuggling closer and slipping a quick kiss on his neck. _Ooohh, I love it when he does that…_ Remus thought, letting his eyes close slightly, savoring the feeling of warmth and human connection. The calendar, all but forgotten on his lap, did not escape Sirius' notice, however.

"The fifteenth is coming up." Sirius said, "Are you worried at all?"

Remus started at the amazingly perceptive abilities Sirius sometimes displayed. For someone as arrogant, foolish, and utterly… given to childishness… Sirius was often surprising when it came to understanding exactly what was going on inside Remus. A feat made even more amazing, considering that half the time _Remus_ didn't even understand what was going on inside Remus. With a sigh, Remus thought wryly, _if only Sirius could adapt these unique abilities of perception for more general use in his school work… or maybe to temper his typically hot-headed interaction with Sev-err.. never mind._

"Yes...um.. a little." Remus admitted, returning to the conversation. "What, exactly, did Dumbledore tell you about it?"

Sirius shifted his position on the bed slightly, so that they weren't quite so close. He made up for the additional distance by dropping his arm to clasp Remus comfortably around the waist.

"Just what I told you last year, really. That part of the same magic that creates a werewolf in the first place also manifests as this yearly sort of sickness that occurs around the 15th of February. I'm rather confused about the details, like why you only really got sick because of it starting last year, when you've been a werewolf for ages. And then, why can't I find anything about it in any of the books I've read? In the past three years, I've done a lot of research on werewolves… of course, most of it is shite anyway."

Sirius shot Remus a sideways glance. His… _boyfriend_ … was looking more pale and shaken than usual. Sirius squeezed his waist gently, bringing his other hand up to stroke along the edge of his cheek.

"If this is bothering you, Moony, we don't have to talk about it…I just wanted to know if there was anything I could do for you; and I wanted to… understand." He said softly. Remus gave him a wan smile, and then tipped his head down to rest on Sirius' shoulder.

"I'm not surprised that it's not mentioned in any books, Padfoot." Remus admitted, "I imagine the sort of people writing about werewolves are more interested in how to recognize and kill them, than in the natural life cycle of a growing werewolf." Horrified, Remus realized that his cheeks were slowly flushing pink. Sirius noticed with a certain amorous thrill that Moony's face had turned a rather appealing shade of red. It was sweet that he was trying to be open about something that, for whatever reason, was causing some embarrassment… It was _adorable_ , actually. Sirius had a momentary vision of Moony, the world's biggest gay werewolf trussed up in a giant pink, fluffy bunny suit. And holding a sign: _will snog for chocolate._ Suppressing a snicker, Sirius inclined his head attentively, trying to indicate that he really wanted Remus to continue explaining.

"I guess it's because hardly anyone gets bitten so young. I'm sort of an… anomaly, really." Remus finally continued slowly. He kept his head on Sirius' shoulder, making it easy to talk without having to make eye contact. "So, for most werewolves that are already…umm… adult, they _always_ experience the effects of …that particular day. Since I was bitten when I was still a child, I've only just now gotten…erm… old enough to begin experiencing… Lupercalia."

"Lupercalia?" Sirius asked, "This has a name?"

"Yeah." Remus replied, certain that his face was as red as a tomato by now. "It's the name of the ancient Roman holiday they used to celebrate on February 15th. Who knows if the two things are actually connected. Dumbledore told me that even he wasn't sure how all these things come together; there's just not a lot that's known or understood about living life as a werewolf." Remus accented his statements with a resigned shrug, nestling himself closer to Sirius' solid mass. Comforting solidity.

"The way you've talked about it…ummm. sorta sound like some kind of werewolf-coming-of-age day." Sirius commented, carefully keeping his voice neutral. He wanted Remus to feel like he could keep talking without getting overly self-conscious. The poor thing, his face was as red as a tomato.

"Yeah…I…um… I guess if my Mum or my Dad knew about this, last year Dad would have sat down with me and… you know… given me that _you're a real man_ , or…errm… _you're a mature werewolf now_ …speech." Remus coughed self-consciously; this was all awkward enough just thinking about it, without actually saying these things out loud to his … _boyfriend_. He tried to deflect the conversation away from the _maturity_ aspect, just in case Sirius asked anything about that. "The first time around, it's rather like the werewolf equivalent to a…errm… growth spurt, that happens entirely in one day. That's why it hurts so much.

"So… you hit werewolf puberty last year. And now, you're a big, mature werewolf? Won't your Mummy be so proud." Sirius grinned easily. Remus almost laughed with relief at the casual way that Sirius was taking in all this information. But his stomach was still tied up in knots because of the …nuanced… aspect of Lupercalia that he was still holding back.  _Oh well… in for a Knut, in for a Galleon._

"Sirius…it's…umm… more than just…a growth spurt." Remus stuttered, but forced himself to say. Above his head, he could feel Sirius raise a quizzical eyebrow. Remus forced himself to take a calming breath before blurting out, "It's a sexual thing, too."

"Okay." Was the only response Sirius made. It was even, and calm. Remus was surprised at how soothing one simple word could be. He felt his stomach unknot itself slightly, even though his face was still caught in the throes of the deepest blush known to the wizarding world.

"If Lupercalia was just…errm… about coming-of-age, then it would probably only happen that first time. And then, well, you'd get along with your life just like everybody else does after they've…umm… matured." Remus had no idea how to even begin explaining what Lupercalia meant for a werewolf; it didn't help that he was rather shady on the details himself. "If you…if I…if a werewolf _marks_ you-er-his-mate …on Lupercalia… they are magically bonded to each other exclusively until the next Lupercalia." Remus blurted out, fumbling for words, and trying to remain neutral.

"Oh." Sirius said slowly. Then something clicked, and his voice jumped with realization: "Oh! _That's_ why Pomfrey was so worried about if you had bitten or marked any of us last year, even though it wasn't a full moon. I thought she was worried that one of us would turn into a werewolf too. But she was worried that one of us had gotten…umm... bonded? to you."

Remus, blushing furiously, nodded.

"Magically enforced monogamy with a werewolf, then?" Sirius teased. Then he turned and pushed Remus away from his shoulder gently. "You don't need to hide there, you know." He murmured softly, placing a kiss on Remus' forehead. The golden eyes were staring down at his hands, nervously fidgeting with the calendar.

"Padfoot… _Sirius_ … I…" Remus stumbled breathlessly.

"Moony, _Remus_ , look at me."

Remus suppressed a shudder at the loving tone of voice. He didn't want to look at Sirius; he wanted to jump on top of and curl up safely inside of Sirius.

Forever, if need be.

Remus forced his eyes to travel up the other boy's body. His gaze moved over the familiar folds of Sirius' favorite sapphire-blue shirt, the comforting way it fell about the muscles of his chest, the lazy way Sirius always left the top buttons open, the arms that were holding him, the shoulders that connected those arms to the body-neck-and-head of Sirius Black. Connected them to each other. Swallowing self-consciously, Remus brought his eyes up to meet the grey eyes surrounded by thick black lashes that were watching him steadily, unflinchingly.

"Thank you for being so open with me." Sirius said quietly. Remus nodded mutely. Sirius sighed then, his eyes showing how much it pained him that Remus had to struggle with so much more than the ordinary teenager had to deal with. "I guess there's not exactly a lot of information about this, is there? I bet you don't even really know what's going on with your own…ummm… body, huh? I'm sorry that…that your life has to be so… difficult, Remus." Sirius said softly.

Briefly, Remus felt like breaking into tears. It was true that he hardly had any more information about Lupercalia than what he had just shared with Sirius; it was true that it was just one more night among thirteen nights a year that he had to deal with, alone and arcane. It wasn't fair. And it was completely overwhelming to have someone as wonderfully _beautiful_ as Sirius Black, sitting right next to him, sharing the weight of that burden.

"I… I think I _love_ you." He whispered shakily. There was a breathless pause as Remus' eyes went wide, realizing what he had just said; and Sirius sat quietly still. Remus felt a wild panic, like a cage full of birds were trapped inside his stomach and they all had suddenly beating their wings. _Oh gods…_ But Sirius didn't stiffen, or flinch, or pull away. He just sighed, a long exhausted exhale, as if his soul were briefly trying to leave his body and surround them both. Protect them both.

"I know." He finally said, his voice low and hoarse. "I… I know… And I… do too."

There was another moment of silence, pulled out and entwined around them.

"…but, Moony…" Sirius' voice was laced with questioning, a hesitancy, "…I don't know if it's such a good idea… to…"

Relief flooded Remus from head to toe; he was almost dizzy with the sudden rush as he let out a strangled breath that he hadn't realized he was holding.

"Yes. That's what I thought, too. Not this year, at least. It's just… too much… for me to … I just can't…"

"And we don't really know…"

"Yes. And we've still got…"

"As long as it's what you want."

"I just don't want you to be …unhappy…or hurt."

"I'm happy. So happy. Here. With you. Like this."

"Good."

"Yes. It is."


	8. And Howl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes all you can do is just... let it out.

Minerva McGonagall sighed as she looked from the file on her desk to the tired looking student sitting slouched dejectedly in the chair before her.

"It goes without saying that all of your instructors have written personal notes praising your intelligence and poise." She began, "Your marks are exemplary, without exception; your test scores continually exceed even our own raised expectations. You excel in performance compared to some of your most advanced peers…"

"But." The boy muttered angrily, the frustration and bitter disappointment plainly written across his face. He scuffed his shoe against the leg of his chair and crossed his arms over his chest defensively.

"Yes," McGonagall confirmed, "But."

Her lips pressed together tightly. She stared silently at the student for a measured moment, and sighed again. Then she said abruptly, "Have a biscuit, Lupin."

"Have - what?"

"Have a biscuit," she repeated impatiently, indicating a tartan tin lying on top of a pile of pamphlets on her desk. "They are chocolate, after all. I _have_ noticed that you have quite the taste for chocolate." The boy's defensive anger wavered only fractionally, but he uncrossed his arms enough to reach out and take piece of chocolate from the tin.

"I will tell you what I tell every other student that I meet with at this time of year, Lupin… And then I will tell you the truth. That is all that I can offer you." Her tone of voice was not at all what he was used to; it was not brisk, crisp and stern; it was anxious and somehow much more human than usual. She thoughtfully regarded him with an odd, almost pitying, expression on her face.

"Obviously, this meeting is to talk over any career ideas you might have, and to help you decide what subjects to continue in your last years here at Hogwarts accordingly." McGonagall fingered the folder in front of her, words spilling out in a flat, automatic way that told Remus Lupin that she knew it was all bunk given the circumstances. But it was…at least nice that she wanted him to have an experience as close to normal as possible.

"Have you given any thought to what you would like to do after you leave Hogwarts, Lupin?"

Remus Lupin choked on the thought, and sharply dropped his head to glare at the tops of his shoes. He clutched his hands together on his lap and remained stonily silent. _Of course I've given my "future" loads of thought._ He ranted in his mind, _what I'd like to do after Hogwarts is wake up and realize that it's all been a horrible nightmare, and I'm not really doomed to live as a Dark Creature, jobless and scarred, my whole life._

There was a strangled sort of noise from the Gryffindor Head of House, as if she were stifling yet another sigh. "Normally, I would suggest to someone with your obvious aptitude for Defense, that you give serious thought to Auror training. Your marks are high enough in Potions, and your test results in Charms and Transfiguration have always exceeded expectations…"

 _I wonder if anybody else would laugh at the irony of a Dark Creature getting a job to battle Dark Creatures… Maybe I should give the blokes a full report about this odious interview, they would all have a good laugh._ Remus shivered suddenly, realizing flatly that they would all be having a good laugh at him. _Then again… maybe I'll not say a thing at all._

"Well, then." McGonagall's voice regained its odd, wavering tone, dispensing with the cumbersome attempt to maintain the pretense of normalcy. "That is what I would normally tell someone with so much promise, such as yourself. But the truth, Lupin, is rather a different story, I am afraid. You must understand that, after Hogwarts, we cannot guarantee you anything; I will not mislead you with false hopes or rose-colored illusions of the future."

With a barely hidden scowl, Remus realized that McGonagall sounded very much like a person delivering a eulogy. Her voice continued as he studied his shoes with intense scrutiny.

"For someone with… your condition… you will find it hard to maintain a steady job. You will constantly be treated with suspicion, bigotry, and outright fear. It is an outrage that someone with your considerable talents will be wasted at the hands of the ignorant… But…"

"Yeah." Remus muttered then, "But."

There was a deep pause as McGonagall silently regarded the student.

"Lupin," she eventually said, her voice low and soft, "I believe you will find that the day is fast approaching when you will be highly valued, among friends, for both your aptitudes and for your loyalties."

At that curious statement, Remus brought his eyes up to stare blankly at the professor. _What in the world is McGonagall talking about? Has she gone bonkers?_ Remus briefly thought, but the cold, distant look in McGonagall's sharp eyes made him shiver again. No, Professor McGonagall was certainly not bonkers; but what she was speaking about, Remus was uncertain.

"Professor?" He finally asked, watching as McGonagall's jaw clenched and her lips pressed into a thin line. After another measured pause, McGonagall apparently decided that Remus was responsible enough for just a few more details.

"Your Headmaster Dumbledore has been worried recently about a growing number of… suspicious incidents; he and I both agree, as do a few others of _like mind_ , that we may very soon find ourselves at an impasse with Dark Forces. You - and I would give this advice to _your closest friends_ as well - you would all do well to think carefully about your place in the world…" Remus blinked at McGonagall as she trailed off into pensive silence. This careers advice session was certainly as far from normal as it could be: a werewolf with no discernable future, a notoriously meticulous professor lapsing into silence, vaguely ominous warnings about a bleak storm gathering.

"In the meantime, Lupin," the tired woman suddenly snapped back into the familiar, fastidious Professor McGonagall, "you might as well do something that you enjoy. What makes you happy?"

Caught off-guard, Remus said the first thing that came immediately to mind, "Sirius Black."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow as Remus blushed furiously and mentally berated himself for saying such an idiotic thing to someone like _McGonagall._

"Well." She coughed slightly, "I suppose _friends_ are as good an answer as any. I had been thinking about what _courses of study_ made you happy; but in this case, my advice to choose courses you enjoy may be synonymous with choosing courses that your friends will be taking." At this, she barely restrained her impulse to groan and roll her eyes heavenward; the thought of actually _advising_ that notorious gang of Gryffindors to continue to harass teachers in a group…But.

But, it was the least she could do for Remus Lupin.

"Sirius Black." McGonagall's voice was terse and clipped, but not too harsh, "has informed me that he has no definite career plans. I believe his _exact_ words were, 'bloody hell, Professor, I could serve pea soup at The Leaky Cauldron for all I care -as long as I get out of my father's house.' I suggested to him that his strengths indicated that he would do perfectly fine at any advanced post, even as an Auror or a Curse-Breaker for Gringotts, if he had the discipline for the training."

Remus already felt a foolish grin sliding around his face, at the disgraceful way that McGonagall had snorted at Sirius' words.

"So what courses is he taking?" Remus inquired.

"The usual course load in Transfiguration and Charms; he will continue with Muggle Studies as well." McGonagall cleared her throat and continued. "Also… you might be interested to know…Sirius asked to continue in both Defense Against the Dark Arts and Care of Magical Creatures, because he informed me he was curious about getting a job with the Werewolf Registry and Capture Unit."

_With the... Oh!_

Even though McGonagall was giving him a piercing look that clearly said _now where could an idea like that have come from?_ Remus couldn't help but allow another sloppy, foolish grin to spread across his face. Despite how depressing, disturbing, and frustrating this entire careers advice meeting had been, Remus gathered his things excitedly - dashing out of McGonagall's office in order to find, and then thoroughly snog, his absolutely _brilliant_ boyfriend.

* * *

  
The brief moment of renewed enthusiasm for life passed quickly, and Remus sunk into a post-snog irritated cynicism. The start of the spring term hadn't been so bad; surviving Lupercalia had distracted Remus from brooding on thoughts of his larger future. The summer term, however, had just barely begun; between approaching OWLs and those infernal career counseling sessions, Remus felt like snarling and snapping at anyone who so much as mentioned life-goals or even merely spoke in the future tense.

He knew his friends were trying their hardest to not bother him, but a piece of Remus simply didn't care that he was short-tempered nearly all the time. Sirius appeared oblivious to the increasing nastiness of his own boyfriend, until the day when Remus' grades started slipping. Sirius arched a quizzical eyebrow at Remus, but said nothing. The grey eyes were lined with a worry that, Remus suddenly realized with a pang of guilt, had been quietly gathering there for months.

 _Speaking of months…_ Remus' eyes flicked to the lunascope that Sirius had given him for Christmas during their second year, thinking it would please Remus since he seemed to gaze up at the moon often. Although Sirius didn't know it at the time, the lunascope was rather redundant, since Remus could always sense the phase of the moon; especially as it grew closer to full. The full moon was this upcoming Friday. Remus knew that they were planning to explore the area of the Forbidden Forest between Hagrid's Hut and the Whomping Willow… but, frankly, Remus already felt like a caged animal- and he hadn't even sprouted fur yet. Angrily pushing aside his homework, a disturbingly recurrent action this semester, Remus sulked away from the dorm tower. He moodily prowled the halls, for the first time using his position as Prefect to snap at passing first and second years for being too loud, too rowdy, or too gosh darn cute. It felt amazingly good to vent his mounting frustrations, and that only made Remus feel guilty; but he kept doing it all week long, as the wolf inside became more and more aggressive.

When a third year girl, dragging her sobbing first year sister by the hand, finally sought out Sirius to demand that he do something about 'that irate git, Remus Lupin' Sirius arched an eyebrow, but said nothing. James looked up, worried, from where he was pretending to study - but actually adding their most recent discovery to The Maurader's Map.

"He's a bit off this week, do you think?"

Sirius did not comment. He leaned back and shut his eyes, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Even for… this time of the month… ummm-that sounds bad-but you know what I mean…Do you reckon it's the extra stress because of the OWLs? Maybe we should study more?"

Sirius still made no move to speak; eventually James shrugged a bit, and returned to his mapmaking. Peter nearly entirely missed the week of Remus' rage, due to a week-long detention he was serving for Professor Slughorn. The week before, Peter had accidentally blown up his cauldron in Potions, and had been heard to have muttered decidedly unwise remarks suggesting that it was Slughorn's inability to teach, rather than his own inability to avoid mixing volatile ingredients, that caused the continuing string of minor catastrophes.

It didn't matter much that Peter was somewhat out-of-the-loop. As the rat, the smallest animal, Wormtail's job was mostly to keep up with the others as they ran about. They typically established any objectives for the night ahead of time, so they all had a clear idea of what was expected of their animal forms in advance. Plus, they had worked out a simple system of gestures that the animals could use to communicate any unforeseen events. Even still, Wormtail's job was mostly to keep up - and occasionally, to scurry into some smaller place and have a look about.

Friday night, however, none of their planned objectives or systematic gestures mattered at all. The moon shone silvery light down on the Forbidden Forest; Prongs and Wormtail strode and scurried, respectively. Padfoot sniffed and loped. But Moony just sat. And howled.

When Sirius had magicked open the door of the Shack, just before transforming to Padfoot, Moony had not bounded energetically out of the house as he typically did, eager for a night of running and barking and playing with his pack in the woods. Instead he stalked. His nose low to the ground and his ears pulled back, not quite flat but nearly there. His silvery-grey fur rippled across his tensed muscles as he prowled away from the house, away from Hogsmeade, and deeper into the wild forest. Padfoot had playfully padded to his side, but Moony had merely raised his head slightly, and given him a stern look. Exactly the sort that a father or wolf would give to the endearing -but highly overactive - child of the family. Padfoot, settled down immediately in response to the canine command, taking up pace beside Moony.

Prongs, standing at their rendezvous point in the shadowed edge of the Forest, flicked a worried ear toward them: the signal for _this doesn't seem to be going according to plan… is there a problem here?_ Padfoot chuffed in response: the signal for _How in Merlin's name would I know? I'm just the playful puppy of this pack, remember. Just help me make sure he doesn't go off and bite someone tonight, okay?_ … or perhaps some message close enough to that but with less words.

By the time the moon had risen to just-above the treetops, all stalking, prowling, prancing, or attempts to play had been abandoned as utterly futile. Moony had made a direct line straight for a grassy dell nestled comfortably between a rocky outcropping at their backs, a small copse of Alihotsy, and a stately grove of oaks beyond that. Through one sharp glare, Moony made it abundantly clear that he expected his pack to be unobtrusive and amuse themselves in the safety of his chosen 'den', while he trotted his way to a perch on top of the rocks above them. And there he lifted his head and began to howl. Sometimes he sat, sometimes he stood, always he howled. Wormtail, being both small and bored easily, slipped away shortly thereafter. Moony watched him go with a glare and an extra loud wailing howl.

Prongs tried for a few hours to indulge the howling, and then convince Moony to play… but he was utterly unsuccessful. Eventually he abandoned his attempts, and began to amble about the knoll thoughtfully scratching his antlers on the tree bark every now and then. Unlike Wormtail, if Prongs tried to leave, Moony would definitely see him, and probably react badly. Plus, if Prongs left to find fun, then only Padfoot would be around in case something …bad… happened.

Padfoot cocked his head to the side, giving the impression of a human with a quizzically raised eyebrow. He made no noise for a prolonged moment as he watched Moony thoughtfully. Then he padded up the rocks, his pink tongue lolling, and nosed the scruff of Moony's neck affectionately. Without missing a beat, he dropped to his haunches and lifted his head. Ears laid back in a nonchalantly endearing manner, Padfoot's howl joined Moony's wailing song.

Prongs flicked a questioning ear toward them: the signal for _bloody hell, not you too… Is he going to keep this up all night? If you two expect me to break out into song as well, you've got another thing coming…_

Padfoot's tail thumped distractedly three times against the ground: the signal for _Prongs, you utter git, go stuff yourself. I've got Moony to take care of right now, can't you see that he needs me? Bloody hell, where has Wormtail disappeared to?_ … or perhaps some message close enough to that but less thoughtfully articulated.

* * *

  
Remus opened an eye halfway.

There was a glaring light coming from somewhere. He shut his eyes again, still too soon to focus or think. Five years at Hogwart's, thirteen moons a year… It was almost a ritual of sorts, going through these motions. He flexed his fingers first. He could move them without sharp pain - must have been a decently good night. He shifted his arms a bit away from his body. Soreness, stiffness - all the usual aches and pains. Nothing major. Remus wiggled his toes and took a deep breath. His toes were fine. His feet were fine. His legs were fine. And other than beginning to feel hungry, the rest of his body seemed to be in mostly one piece.

Except that his throat was sore for some reason. With his eyes still closed, Remus cocked his head thoughtfully to the side. It was unusual that his throat would feel hoarse. _Had Moony been chewing on bark or something?_

Fully reacquainted with his body, Remus took exactly three deep breaths, mindful of his dry throat. At the end of the three breaths, he tensed every muscle that he could as hard as he could bear, heedless of the pain for one unbearable, unflinching moment. Then he exhaled and let it all out again; after all, being _reacquainted_ with his body was very different from being _within_ his body. An animagus, although transformed, is always conscious, always aware of being _within their own skin_ \- no matter what shape or form that skin appears; a werewolf, on the other hand, not only has a different skin, but a different mind. It is somewhat unsettling to change both, and then try to reconnect on the morning after.

Remus had heard that sometimes, when werewolves got old- or maybe just got tired of it all - they stop reconnecting the way they ought to.

And then they go mad.

Pushing those unsettling thoughts away with a shudder, Remus returned to the greatest question at hand: what was that glaring light? And, slightly less pressing, why was his throat so sore? Cracking his eyes open again, Remus realized that the glaring light was the sun. It was nearly halfway into the sky already, and shining pleasantly through the windows of the Hospital Wing. _Well, at least that answers the first question,_ Remus thought with a squint at the obnoxious daylight.

"Hey." A soft voice said quietly, next to his ear.

Remus turned his head from the golden sunlight, and was suddenly drinking in the sight of Sirius' grey eyes. _Oi. He is a sight for sore…well, everything._

"Hey Padfoot." Remus grinned hopefully. Sirius always brought him extra chocolate after a full moon. Especially one that was rough enough that Remus didn't recall how exactly he got into the Hospital Wing.

"Hey Moony." The soft voice replied, a hint of concern underlying the bright smile. Sirius settled down on the edge of the bed; since it was Saturday, he could linger instead of slipping in and out quickly between classes.

"I…ummm… don't recall getting back to the Shack last night. Or getting back here, either." Remus admitted nervously, "… Was it that bad?"

"No, it was fine." Sirius said, placing a hand on Remus' arm to comfort the overly-serious boy, "No one has been hurt. Except..."

Remus' eyes widened with fear. "Except…?" he whispered.

"Except Remus Lupin." Sirius said knowingly.

"You haven't been yourself, lately." It wasn't a question; it wasn't chiding. Sirius was gazing intently, unblinkingly, at Remus. His eyes were full of the same tender worry that always reminded Remus of that first real time that they shared between them, just them, in the library. Remus flinched under the gaze, dropping his eyes to his hands, trying to ignore the frustrated resentment that was already building back up again despite his post-lunar exhaustion. Sirius quietly continued speaking, in a low and surprisingly somber voice.

"Remus. I want to show you something." Sirius whispered, "Look."

The words echoed in his head, pushing him back into the memory of that first conversation at the same time that Remus was pulled forcefully into the present moment. He dragged his head up, finding Sirius' steady grey eyes amid the blinding sea of harsh sunlight. At Sirius' neck, his hands were moving, unbuttoning his shirt at the neck. Remus watched curious, as the hands reached under the fabric and pulled out a thin golden chain. Removing it from around his neck, Sirius reached out, dropping the chain smoothly into Remus' hands. Attached to the chain like a pendant was a small glass vial. Remus held it up to get a better look.

"The glass is unbreakable." Sirius said, "I wear it all the time. To remember, I guess. Or to try to remember as often as possible, at least."

Inside the vial was a single splinter of willow bark. Sirius sighed a bit.

"I know I'm not always… the best bloke around." He admitted, "I don't always…ummm… live up to the great things I talk about. But at least I keep talking about them, right? I'm really sorry if I'm an utter arse between times, though."

Remus, holding the chain, wondered briefly where Sirius was going with this self-deprecating discussion.

"But… I try to remember that I never really know until I try. And then, sometimes, I surprise the bloody hell out of everyone - even myself…. Especially myself." Sirius flashed is signature cocky boyish grin. Returning his gaze to the vial in Remus' hands, his voice shook slightly as he continued.

"And it's not easy. In fact, it's crap most of the time. Things are getting worse at home, you know. I'm working on… on not… getting stuck back in that place I used to be… but it's still there, always, like a dementor or a boggart. Just waiting for the right time to come and swallow me up again. Sometimes…" Sirius paused to run a hand through his wild black hair; he looked thoughtfully at Remus, "sometimes it feels as though no matter how far I come, I'm really only two steps ahead of being caught, and taken back. And going back is _not_ an option anymore." Sirius' voice was hard, arrogant, frightened, and frustrated all at once. Involuntarily, Remus' fingers tightened around the vial. A tangled knot was forming in the back of his throat, and he tried swallowing a couple times - but it didn't work. Sirius' voice was soft again, wrapping around Remus like an embrace.

"You must feel so alone. Despite how much more you have now than ever before - it must just be a reminder of how much you have to lose… Maybe you've been thinking that it would have been better to have never come to Hogwarts, never had this life, so that you won't have to go through loosing it all when this ends. When we all leave…"

Remus barely nodded, sitting sore and frozen on the bed. His whole body was still, his gaze locked dispassionately on his clasped hands; only Sirius' voice, and the blood rushing in his veins, existed alive in the whole world.

"We didn't do anything last night. And when the moon set, you transformed and passed out right away. James and I brought you straight here… thought it might be better that way." Sirius said with a shrug, but Remus could sense he was trying to find the best way to say something. Hesitation hung in the air.

"Do you want to howl more often, Moony?"

Remus' head jerked up and his golden eyes widened at the question that sounded more like a statement, or… an offer. The question was startling, and nonsensical, but something in Remus suddenly focused. It was the sort of feeling that only Sirius could bring to him: certainty, and clarity in a brief, brilliant flash of insight. The past week, the past term, the past year kaleidoscoped into a sudden brilliant pattern; and Remus knew what he had been missing throughout it all had been a voice. Moony's voice? At least Remus now had an answer to his second question: he vaguely recalled now that Moony had spent the whole bloody night howling. Remus cleared his voice awkwardly, wishing that he had a clearer memory of what had happened.

"It was more like… singing… by the end of the night, actually." Sirius offered. "But, seriously mate, you might think about it." Reaching out, Sirius gently disentangled the golden chain from Remus' fingers. He clasped it around his neck and tenderly tucked it back under his shirt. The familiar roguish grin had reappeared in his eyes.  _Right_ , Remus thought, feeling a warm grin spreading in response throughout his body, _Howling is exactly the sort of thing Sirius would just love to do…probably in the middle of a boring class, in fact._

A small smirk tucked just beneath the surface, Sirius nudged Remus. "Just remember you can talk to me, okay? And Prongs too. And… I _get it already…_ okay? So, if you want to cast a silencing charm around us - or nick out away from the castle some time - I have absolutely no problem letting loose every now and then. Prongs said he'd supply the butterbeer. We could even roast Wormtail."

"Sirius!"

"I mean weenies! We could nick away to the Forest and roast weenies. And chocolate- loads and loads of gooey, melty, delicious chocolate."

"And howl." Remus said softly, his smile finally suffusing his amber eyes.

"And howl." Sirius confirmed with teenage solemnity.


	9. The Best and Worst of Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did you forget that we already knew how this was going to end?

There was a muffled moan from the bed next to his. James Potter rolled over and squinted in the darkness at his watch. 3 am. On a Saturday morning. Those blighters.

Rummaging quietly on the table next to his bed, he felt for his wand. Any louder and those stupid gits would wake up Wormtail- and that would be the end of the fun for them, and the end of sleep for everyone. Finding his wand, James blearily raised himself up from his bed, pointed his wand in the general direction of Moony's bed and muttered, " _Silencio_."

Immediately the small noises and rustlings stopped, as if an invisible soundproof bubble had descended around the bed. James fell back onto his pillow, dropped his wand to the floor, and rolled back over to dream some more of Lily Evans and the Quidditch Cup. Those two owed him, once again.

Inside their cozy, soundproof bed, Sirius nibbled on Remus' ear.

"I think we owe James, again." Remus said pragmatically.

"Wanna see if we can shatter his silencing charm?" Sirius asked coyly, tracing the line of Remus' neck with his tongue. Remus didn't answer except to pull Sirius' body closer to his own, gasping "-bad dog!-" into the magical silence.

He turned and nuzzled his face into Sirius' hair, twining it around his fingers as Sirius moved lower, tracing his chest with soft fingertips. Sirius found one nipple and kissed it gently before teasingly tracing it with the tip of his tongue. Remus moaned again, and arched his back helplessly. The tight ball of energy building up in his chest seemed to explode into a pulsing, mindless flood that cascaded over his whole body as his lover's hands brushed over his chest and arms, stroked his hair, and examined the contours of his stomach. An incredibly soft, hot mouth descended upon his flesh, kissing and caressing over the smooth, lightly scarred plane of skin, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Remus' hips twitched involuntarily as he felt Sirius' tongue teasing his belly, tracing lines along the edges of his muscles.

"Off…" he muttered, nearly incoherently as Sirius continued his teasing ministrations. "Pants…off…"

Remus could hear the wolf that shared his body tearing around crazily with the same flooding desire. He spent so much of his life at odds with himself that Remus hardly knew what to do when both he and Moony were in agreement. He didn't regret holding back at Lupercalia; it was just too much, too soon. But that didn't rule out every other day of the year…And, if they counted Halloween as the start of… whatever they wanted to call _this_ …then _this_ had been going on for nearly six months. And the more…involved… _this_ had been going on for the last three. And then thoughts about time and space and whether or not he was a human or an animal dissolved in one breathless moment, as he felt the warm pressure of Sirius' tongue flick over that one spot on his hip; his finger tugging Remus' pants roughly down. The slide of fabric over his achingly hard prick felt so good it almost hurt. Growling with intensity that Remus didn't even try to hold back, he twisted upward, away from the weight holding him down.

With a gasp, Sirius flipped; his grey eyes wide, thick with his own arousal. Adjusting with the speed of a Quidditch player, Sirius adapted to the sudden lead that Remus had taken, his heart thudding wildly at the way that Moony could suddenly twist, leap, and take off in the middle of a seemingly innocent trot. Sirius gripped his arms as Remus rolled them over, falling willingly to the bed beneath him. Through half-closed eyes, Remus hungrily devoured the sight of Sirius' black hair tousled against the sheets. His skin pale but his blood already warm, already spreading a flush throughout his body; his grey eyes disappearing as they rolled back as Remus rocked his hips ardently. It never failed to amaze him the way they melted so easily, fit so perfectly, with each other; the rhythms were always different, but somehow also always _right_. Remus didn't have to be a werewolf to smell Sirius all around him; but with his heightened senses, the sandalwood scent was maddening. 

Sirius returned Moony's growl with a low groan, a reflection of the intense feeling the same way that the dog was a reflection of the wolf. As they began to move together the stimulation built up quickly, almost unbearably fast. The whole world narrowed to the feeling of pressing together with abandon, of Remus' hands on him, of the ache of impending release. The pleasure seemed to spiral throughout him, drawing in from every limb before collecting and centering in that one glorious moment.

Later, they lay, limbs twined around each other's, in a madly twisted mess of sheets and blankets. Dawn was maybe an hour away, the other occupants of Hogwarts still wrapped in their own dreams. _Dreams_ , Sirius thought, gazing up at the curtains drawn around Remus' bed, _silly love-sick dreams. Like someday we'll all be one big, happy family. Lily and James living right next door to me an' Moony. Peter will find someone eventually, too… Some mousy Hufflepuff._ Sirius had to stifle a sarcastic laugh at the thought. He settled for a smirk, and adjusted his shoulder beneath Moony's sleeping head. He quietly studied his lover, the early-morning light, or the post-coital glow, somehow making his face and light brown hair seem golden. With that horrible moon after careers counseling behind them, OWLs looming ahead of them, and beyond that… _who knows what else?_ …Sirius knew that Remus would never allow himself the chance to hope, to dream, like a normal human.

Nestled next to him, Remus sighed softly and snuggled closer; his arm tightened possessively for a second across Sirius' chest and then relaxed as Remus sank deep back into sleep. The slight movement was enough to bring Sirius' attention away from his idle thoughts and back to the present moment. Shrugging with graceful arrogance, Sirius grinned lazily at the curtains of Moony's bed and drifted off to sleep, dreaming of pulling pranks and leaving worries about The Future for some other day.

* * *

  
Staring at the Transfiguration text in his lap, Remus was briefly reminded of a Muggle novel he had read a long time ago. It had begun with the words _it was the best of times, it was the worst of times_ … Remus sat numbly, those words endlessly echoing in his head, as he tried to tell himself that Severus Snape was not his concern - was not his friend - any more.

Sometimes Sirius Black really understood him; sometimes it was amazing the way he and Sirius fit together perfectly, like two missing puzzle pieces. But sometimes Sirius could be so… thick. So infuriating. So arrogant and aloof. Lily was right, Padfoot and Prongs were a regular pair of bullying toerags.

Prats. Gits.

The only friends Moony would ever have.

The little black words tripped across the page, explaining over and over again: _"in order to successfully Transfigure a…"_

Transfigure a what, exactly? A boyfriend into a mature adult? A best friend into a hero instead of an impish teenager? An old friend into an enemy you could hardly recognize, and then back into a companion again? Remus felt like he was simultaneously failing a hundred OWLs all at once.

Without even looking, he could smell the blood Severus… _Snape_ … drew from Prongs. Indignation flared in his chest, but his body remained frozen on the ground. It was true that Sirius had been particularly priggish to Snape ever since the Potion...incident... like Sirius had it out especially for Snape. But then, Snape certainly hadn't been helping anything either. Snape had slowly, but surely, become utterly unrecognizable over the course of the year. The pale, peaked boy Remus had met at the train station would never have been so rash, so impetuous, that he would draw blood angrily like that; when had the distant, calculating master of precision disappeared? Where had Severus gone, that all that was left was dirty, greasy, Slytherin, _Snape_?

"…filthy little Mudbloods like her…"

Remus flinched inwardly, feeling as if he had been struck. _Filthy little M-- … I knew Sev-Snape was dealing with feeling… "dirty"… but…_

Remus knew he was dangerously close to tears. Whatever his family life was like… whatever his personal struggles… if _Snape_ was projecting so intensely that he would say such things about halfblooded wizards and witches, Remus knew with remorseful certainty that there truly was no possible friendship left between them. _If he would call a brilliant witch like Evans…_ Remus shuddered, _I can only imagine what he would…do to a half-breed like me._

In that moment, Remus felt dirtier than Snape's underpants.

 

In that moment, Remus knew that a piece of him would always remember that he felt that way because of the arrogance of Sirius Black and James Potter.

 

And because Remus J. Lupin was too cowardly and weak to make a change, or to break free.


End file.
